Justice is Blind
by WhyMustIWrite
Summary: Blind from birth, Obi Wan Kenobi overcomes his sightlessness to become a Jedi. Yet when it comes to training a padawan, he may very well be more blind than he realized. AU. Featuring Qui Gon, Padme and Anakin. Part IV is currently UNDER CONSTRUCTION.
1. Part I, Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own Star Wars.  
Okay fine! I don't. Fooled you though, didn't I?

Thanks to Gandalf3213 for inspiring me to write this story through their Jedi Apprentice fic, "Child of Darkness".

* * *

In a crowded plaza on Coruscant, throngs of beings surged, weaving in and out among each other, rarely making eye contact in their hurry to get to their destinations. While many of these beings were human, even a cursory inspection would reveal a variety of species. Brightly dyed clothing, pastel toned skin, and fur of various shades created a conglomeration of swirling color that could prove disorienting to a being unfamiliar with such surroundings.

Amidst this mass of controlled chaos, two beings stood serenely- or, at least, one was serene; the other was relying on that calm to still his own nerves. The two beings looked out of place in their plain brown and tan robes, relatively motionless among the pulsing activity around them.

The serene being, a woman with long dark hair and soft brown eyes, knelt beside a boy no more than seven years old. "Now Obi Wan, I know this is your first trip outside the Temple, and you are a bit nervous," her voice was kind, yet held firmness behind it. "Still you need to let go of your anxiety, little one. Try our breathing exercise."

The boy nodded. His light hair, a blonde that was darkening to auburn, fell in front of his face as he did so. If he was chosen as a padawan, that hair would be cut into the traditional style. For now it pleased him to let it grow. Obediently the boy practiced a breathing exercise that he had learned when barely four years old. The tension in his body visibly lessened.

Satisfied, the woman, a crèche master of the Temple, resumed her instruction. "Very good. Now concentrate, and describe our environment."

The boy hesitated a bit, before closing his blue-grey eyes. His childish face was a mask of concentration. "There…are many, many people here. Most are walking alone, but some are in groups. They all seem to be in a hurry."

He paused, but the crèche master said nothing, waiting for more.

"There are small grassy areas, with…fences?...around them. And…trees," He paused to consider further. "Asope trees," the boy asserted. Obi Wan continued, until the crèche master stopped him after describing the birds that were nesting in nearby branches.

"Very good, young one. You do very well with this exercise," she praised. "Do, however, be a bit more mindful of inanimate objects. They are more difficult to sense than living things, but it is very important that you learn to do so."

"Yes, master." Obi Wan assented.

Now she felt ready to give him the task for which she had brought him. "Young one, I want you to cross this plaza without my guidance. We are on the south end. Make your way to the north end. Try to navigate through this crowd without touching another being or object. Do you understand?"

Obi Wan looked nervous again. She understood why. Unlike in the Temple, the beings out here would not make room for the youngling; he could easily be run into if he was not alert. "Don't be troubled, little one. I will be nearby to help if you really need it. I am watching over you, but I want you to do your best on your own."

The child nodded, smiling tentatively at his teacher before turning and weaving his way through the crowd. More than once, he had to turn his slender body sideways to avoid being compressed between two beings. At one point, a scruffy Bothan came running through, pushing his way through the mass. Obi Wan narrowly avoided being run down by spinning out of the way.

Unfortunately, this caused a momentary loss of orientation. When it seemed he got his bearings back, he began to walk again, only to be knocked to the ground when his body impacted a bulging cluster of shopping bags. The plump human cried out when her purchases also fell to the ground.

"You wretched little brat!" she shrieked "Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"I…I'm sorry." The child stammered. The woman's rage seemed to pummel against the boy's senses. Having grown up in the Temple, he was unused to such blatant anger, and certainly unused to being the focus of it.

In an effort to appease the woman, he lifted one of the dropped bags. Regrettably, he held the bag upside down, spilling its contents all over the permacrete floor.

The woman's rage became indignation. "What are you doing? Are you _blind_?" she demanded maliciously.

Suddenly, the crèche master was at his side, her hand resting comfortingly on the shoulder of her bewildered charge. "As a matter of fact, he is."


	2. Part I, Chapter 2

Obi Wan raised sightless blue eyes towards the proctor, his gaze not quite at her eyes but vaguely near her mouth since her voice was the focus of his attention.

"The match goes to Obi Wan Kenobi," she announced.

The youth removed his training saber from his opponent's neck and bowed, signifying the end of the match. He barely restrained the satisfied grin from stretching across his face.

Obi Wan had bested his opponent quite handily. While he was not normally one to gloat, there was a certain satisfaction in defeating Bruck Chun. It took some of the sting out of the jeers and taunts. "Oafy Wan," Bruck had called him, back when he hadn't developed far in his Force sight and often stumbled or bumped into things. Even now that Obi Wan was more agile, the moniker had stuck.

Obi Wan proved to be one of the best swordsmen in his class. He often defeated those older than him. In the realm of lightsaber combat, his blindness was not a handicap but an advantage. At least, he chose to see it that way. He fought, relying entirely on the Force in a way that one depending on sight could not. He once overheard a Master warning an apprentice that his eyes could deceive him. Obi Wan's eyes had no such opportunity.

Still, despite all his skill, he no one had yet chosen as a padawan. No matter how well he did, inside he was afraid that he would always fall short. That he would always be "Oafy Wan." Time was running out. In less than a week, he would be on his way to Bandomeer to be integrated into the AgriCorps. Obi Wan desperately wished to become a Jedi Knight. This tournament seemed like his last chance, and he was determined to prove himself. To be honest, he could have ended the duel with Bruck earlier, but had refused to take the opening, wanting the fight to be prolonged, wanting to prove that he was every bit as talented as a seeing boy.

Obi Wan was about to enter the locker room when he sensed a certain presence nearby. After a moment's hesitation, he swerved to approach the man. "Master Jinn," He greeted, bowing to the imposing figure to his left. His heart quickened. Master Qui Gon Jinn had spoken to the boy a few times before now. Master Yoda insisted that Qui Gon consider taking on a padawan, and recommended Obi Wan in particular. The Jedi Master, on his part, seemed reluctant and unwilling to do so. Yet Obi Wan felt as though the Force would lead the two of them together.

"Obi Wan," Jinn's baritone voice rumbled, "You performed well."

The boy struggled not to let his nervousness show, even as he hoped that he'd be offered an apprenticeship this day. "Thank you Master Jinn." He inclined his head before turning blue-grey eyes toward the source of the voice. It was generally polite to look at a person when talking to them, he had learned, regardless of whether you actually see them.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence filled the space. Obi Wan could faintly catch Master Jinn's scent, a mix of earth and almug wood, and knew the Jedi had mediated earlier under the almug trees in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His own panting breath dominated any other sounds, for he was quite tired from the match, and he felt trickles of sweat making their way down his face and neck. Still, he did his best to stand motionless, waiting patiently for what the Jedi would say next.

He sensed Qui Gon bow, before turning and walking away. Obi Wan felt a brief flare of panic. Had he done something wrong? "Master Jinn!" he called out to the retreating form.

The Jedi Master paused. Obi Wan sensed and heard the man turn slightly. "Yes, young one?"

He had not meant to call out like that, had not planned what he was going to say. But now that the elder's attention was on him, he had to say something. "Master Jinn, I turn thirteen next week." His tone held a hint of a plea, with just a touch of desperation. He nearly winced at how vulnerable he had sounded, but could not retract what was done. He waited.

Qui Gon's response was not long in coming. "I know." His voice gave away nothing. His emotions were shielded, unreadable.

"I really want to be a Jedi Knight," he plunged on, now even more nervous. "This could be my last chance."

The Master exhaled, and it sounded almost like a sigh. "I cannot take you as a Padawan Learner."

"But you said I did well."

"You performed well- and that's what it was, young one, a performance. You did not fight as a Jedi. A Jedi would not toy with a weaker opponent as you did. He would not seek to prolong a conflict, nor find such satisfaction in his enemy's defeat."

The boy's breath caught in his throat. He lowered his head under the weight of that shameful truth. "I'm sorry, Master Jinn. Please give me a chance. I will learn, with your guidance."

"Obi Wan Kenobi, after watching you fight, I do not think it would be wise to train you as a Jedi," Qui Gon said, not ungently. Then he walked away, boots tapping nearly imperceptibly on the tile floor.


	3. Part I, Chapter 3

Qui Gon Jinn glanced fondly at the fifteen year old before him. Obi Wan was deep in the meditation technique the Master had recently taught him. His apprentice took to new tasks with earnest, whether it was a demanding kata or a mental exercise. His connection to the Force was deep and his trust in it was implicit. This allowed the boy to excel in most areas of his training.

With a rueful smile, Qui Gon recalled how he had initially rejected the boy as a padawan. After the betrayal of his first apprentice, he had no desire to take another. Particularly not Obi Wan, who at the time harbored hidden resentment and an over-eagerness to prove himself. The Force had other ideas and brought them together on Bandomeer. There, a series of alarming events made it plain to Qui Gon that the boy was meant to be Jedi, and he was meant to train him. Obi Wan was ready to sacrifice his life for the sake of others, a Jedi trait more important than one's midichlorian count. Never one to deny the will of the Force, the Jedi overturned his previous decision and took Obi Wan as his apprentice.

Nevertheless, the road had been difficult. For all his ability, Obi Wan still had to deal with hindrances his blindness caused. His "sight" was limited to what he could sense, which meant that they trained constantly to sharpen that sense and extend its range. In time, he hoped his padawan would be able to sense even the subtle contours of a being's face. At the moment, reading simple clues of facial expressions was impossible.

Then there was the problem of his inability to read the printed word. While the boy studied arduously to learn methods of tactile reading and writing, and the Counsel provided him with a headset that read aloud words on a data screen when plugged into the system, written words on a page were forever out of his reach. Drawings, paintings, and other forms of two-dimensional art were likewise unreachable.

Still, despite the challenges, Qui Gon could not regret his decision to train the boy, at least not for too long. Obi Wan was so determined, so quick witted, coming up with resourceful methods of studying, cooking, personal care and more. He struggled to adapt to a visually oriented environment, refusing to excuse himself as handicapped. In fact, even while on missions, Obi Wan normally will not mention his blindness to others, and many people he encountered never became aware of it.

Finally, his apprentice came out of meditation.

"I am having difficulty, Master." His unseeing gaze settled around the area of Qui Gon's mouth.

"My eyes, padawan," his master reminded.

Obi Wan raised his head so that his eyes would meet where he thought his Master's eyes should be. Qui Gon had been trying to break him of the habit of facing people's voice, since it was not common behavior for most beings. In truth, the greater impetus toward eye-contact training was the padawan's unfortunate habit of turning his eyes towards a person's heart, if he had not yet heard their voice. The heart was one of the clearest points he could sense in the Force and thus it was only natural that the youth would focus on it. Despite the innocence of his gesture, Obi Wan came to realize that most women did not appreciate having a teenage boy stared at their chest.

Having corrected his gaze, the youth continued. "I could not see it."

Qui Gon sighed. He had been unsure of whether to introduce this particular form of meditation. In this exercise the Force often manifested itself in a person's mind through color. He had attempted teaching it, reasoning that he could not know the result until they tried. "I suspected that you may not, my apprentice. There is no basis in experience, even in your subconcious mind, to supply the images. This proves you were born blind, rather than becoming so in infancy."

"I'm sorry, Master." Regret filled Obi Wan's voice, as though he felt he'd disappointed his mentor.

"Do not be sorry for things over which you have no control," Qui Gon admonished.

"But I _am_ sorry that I can't be normal, that I make it so difficult for you to train me. It…" Obi Wan's words were stemmed by the solid grip on either shoulder.

"No padawan," He heard his master firm tone, one usually reserved for the most crucial of commands. "Do not regret who you are. You are an extraordinary young man. I would never wish you to be merely…normal."

Obi Wan lowered his head briefly before meeting Qui Gon's eyes again. A genuine smile graced his features. "Thank you, Master."

If Obi Wan were one to give into childish impulses, he would have hugged his mentor. But Qui Gon was not very comfortable with touch, a characteristic that the necessarily tactile apprentice lamented, yet respected. He never shared with Qui Gon the regret that he did not know the shapes of his own Master's face since he had never touched it, and he could not yet discern such precise detail in the Force. Rather than linger on the impulse to hug Qui Gon, he quickly changed the subject. "I don't really understand color, but I have been told that my eyes are blue. Is that so?"

"They are," the elder acknowledged, wondering at the non sequitur.

"And my lightsaber is also blue?"

"Yes."

"The Corusanti sky is blue as well, is it not?"

"That is so, my apprentice, but why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm trying to mentally categorize colors, Master. Would it then be correct to say that my eyes, my lightsaber, and the sky bear some similarity in appearance because they are the same color?"

Qui Gon smiled at his padawan's logic. "In a way, Obi Wan, but it is not that simple. All three of those things are a different shade of blue."

"A different shade?" Obi Wan's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

Qui Gon, after two years with an inquisitive apprentice, was now well-versed in inventing analogies. "A viol is an instrument with a distinctive sound, is it not? And yet there is a range of noises it can make. The sounds are different, but they are all the sound of the viol. Thus, blue can have different shades, and yet still be blue."

"That's interesting. I don't think I've heard color compared to sound before. Normally it's touch- hot and cold, soft and hard." Obi Wan's brows furrowed, his quick mind already working with this new puzzle. "Can colors be blended, the way sound can?"

"They can indeed, padawan. When colors are blended they generally form a new color." He then took the analogy a bit further. "Colors can also clash with each other or look pleasant together, the way instruments can clash or please the ear."

"Do you think, Master," Obi Wan began slowly, ponderously, "that I may be able to complete this new meditation technique by substituting sound for color?"

"I…have not heard of such an adaption." Qui Gon was surprised by the question, yet he did not wish the stifle the boy's resourcefulness. "But perhaps there is potential in exploring this option."

"It's my new project, then," Obi Wan asserted. "I shall let you know if it works."


	4. Part I, Chapter 4

The noise was slight, barely perceptible.

Yet it was there. Obi Wan was finally able to represent the Force through sound in his meditation.

The more he strained to hear, the fainter the sounds became. He tried to relax, to reach out without grasping.

The Force rewarded him with a melodious murmur. It was the quiet song of the juniper tree under which he was sitting. He could hear its serene Living Force.

Obi Wan breathed out, relaxing further into his meditations. Qui Gon wanted him to use this type of meditation to become more mindful of the Living Force, so he tried to focus more on that aspect.

Before long, he could _hear_ the Room of a Thousand Fountains, not with his physical ears, but in the Force. It was a song, soft, gentle and soothing.

Try as he might to focus on the Living Force, eventually Obi Wan felt himself drawn, as always, to the broader Unifying Force. He resisted and continued to dabble in the Living Force presence of these gardens, mindful of his master's assignment.

Yet his predisposition to the other aspect of the Force was strong. He supposed as a reward for his success, he could justify a brief diversion.

The Living Force had been a song, but the Unifying Force was a symphony. The teen paused to revel in the thrill of it. It was music without instruments, at least, not any which he could recognize. His ear couldn't hear it, but him mind rang as the past, the present, and the future wove together in this grand orchestra of sound.

Unlike the Living Force within the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Obi Wan found that the Unifying Force to be anything but serene. It was busy, multi-faceted. At once, it resonated deep, melancholy minor chords and burst forth in triumphant strains. Though, Obi Wan reflected, that may have more to do with his stronger perception of the latter. After all, there was certainly enough diversity amongst living things to evoke a concerto as complex as anything he sensed now.

The padawan felt inclined to return to his assigned task, when a faint, dissonant note strayed in his ear. It was a harsh sound, out of place in this musical tapestry. The teen curiously focused on it, and found it heavy with the Dark Side. He wondered where it came from. This discord seemed centered around something specific…a person?

Uncertainly, Obi Wan mentally reached for that sound, wanting to discern its source. Other sounds faded slightly, as he approached. Then, he suddenly was no longer doing the reaching. He felt himself pulled along, following this chord in the Force, into the future.

The thrilling symphony began to change. It contorted and expanded. Minor strains swelled the song, and the padawan could feel icy tendril of fear grip his heart. This single dissonant note increased in volume, until it became overpowering, and seemed to control the orchestra. The music, if it could still be so called, became oppressive and violent.

Obi Wan's heart beat off-rhythm, in concert with the dominating chaos around him. It sounded like anger. It sounded like hate. It sounded like fear. And it assaulted the boy's senses until he thought he would choke in grief.

A pulse of the Light jolted him from his trance.

He had entered meditation sitting cross-legged under a juniper tree. He awoke from it crumpled against his Master's large frame. Sweat soaked his clammy skin and his body was trembling of its own accord. One of Qui Gon's arms was supporting his head. The other hand was resting against his forehead: the source of the Light pulse which drew him from the daze.

"Padawan, what happened?" His master's voice was urgent, yet relieved.

Obi Wan attempted to swallow down the lump in his throat. He knew he was dangerously close to tears, and he could not keep his body from shaking. "I had a vision," he murmured finally.

The youth had his sightless gaze fixed toward Qui Gon's chest, and the master knew he was listening to sound of his heartbeat. The padawan seemed to be drawing comfort from its steady rhythm, and Qui Gon could not bring himself to remind the boy to look him in the eyes. Whatever he had…seen…obviously upset him.

He waited until Obi Wan regained his composure. Once the apprentice was sitting up without support, he continued "What kind of vision was this?"

It occurred to Obi Wan that "vision" was a rather ironic title for what he experienced, but he was convinced that that was what he'd just experienced. "It was of the future, Master. I found…evil…centered around something…a person…I think. Or it may have been more abstract than that, I'm not sure." The padawan paused to collect his thoughts. "It was almost unnoticeable at first. But then I tried to investigate and it…pulled me…along with it. The evil became stronger, until it was overpowering and poisoning everything. Everything was so Dark, Master…"

"I'm not following, Padawan. Did you actually _see_ a person? What form did this vision take?"

Obi Wan backtracked. "Remember I told you that I'm trying to represent the Force with sound in my meditations?"

"Yes, your new project."

"Well, it worked." He continued to describe exactly what he had heard, and the feelings that accompanied it. When he was done, his master was silent. "What do you think, Master? This is serious, isn't it? Perhaps I should go back and figure out what that dissonant note really is?"

"No. You will do no such thing."

The finality in Qui Gon's voice shocked the teen. "But why not?"

"Obi Wan, this vision is very ambiguous. Since it is comprised of sound and feeling, it could be taken to mean almost anything," Qui Gon explained. "The dissonant note may not be person, but a concept, like slavery for example. Instead of the future, you may have simply delved more deeply into the horrors produced by that institution. It's highly unlikely that you'll find anything of use by exploring that vision."

"But, Master, shouldn't I at least _try_, in case it is the future?" Obi Wan pressed, unwilling to drop the subject.

"Padawan, the future is constantly in motion. Visions are rarely to be taken at face value. And on top of all that, the experience was too dangerous. You could have died in the course of this vision. Your heart was beating irregularly and your breathing was labored. Had I not sensed your distress in the Force, I may not have been there to wake you up."

Obi Wan's eyes widened, as he had not realized that the choked, painful feelings in his vision had been reflected in the physical realm.

"I forbid you to employ that mode of meditation again, young one." Qui Gon's tone brooked no argument. "It apparently is quite sensitive to both the Light and Dark Side. I will not have you touching the Dark Side and endangering your health to pursue fleeting perceptions that may or may not be real. Do you understand?"

"There is great Darkness in the future, Master." The apprentice could not shake the feeling that this was what his vision was telling him.

"Your mind is ever on the future, my very young apprentice. Darkness always lurks ahead. It is the Jedi's role to prevent it by facing it in the _present_." His master sighed. "No more chasing visions, young one. If the Force wishes to show you again, it will find another way to do so. Now, please, promise me you'll refrain from that meditation form."

Obi Wan paused, then slowly nodded. "All right, Master. I promise."


	5. Part II, Chapter 1

Waiting for his master on board the Naboo cruiser was not enjoyable. Obi Wan wished to be out there helping Qui Gon acquire the needed parts. If he had gone, perhaps Obi Wan could have prevented his master's insane plot to leave them stranded on this backwater planet by betting on a child in a podrace.

Certainly, if he had been able to go, he wouldn't have to defend his master's decisions to the queen and her somewhat cynical head of security, Captain Panaka. Normally, he did not mind standing up for the man he esteemed highly; he'd follow Qui Gon anywhere. But it seemed that this time his master was determined to ruin them.

Obi Wan trusted the elder's judgment. He insisted as much in front of the incredulous Panaka. And yet, in Obi Wan's mind, he calculates how long it would take to earn enough money to buy a new ship once they are stranded.

As if he did not have enough to deal with, the handmaidens added to his stress. Not that they were endangering the mission. Rather, they were flirting. With him. This made the padawan rather uncomfortable.

Judging from the wavering sensation of motion emanating around their eyes, he surmised that they were fluttering their eyelashes at him. Qui Gon had warned him this was a flirtatious gesture to be ignored. Easy enough, considering that he need only relax his focus in the Force so that facial expression is indiscernible.

Harder to ignore, were the perfumes with which they insisted on saturating themselves. It overwhelmed his sense of smell until he could discern nothing but vanilla, flowers, fruit, and spices.

They would come to thank him for his continued protection, brushing a hand against his arm as they did so. Sometimes he could hear them giggling as he passed them, or feel their stares when then they were seated for a meal. He did his best to respond in a dignified and professional manner. For the first time, it occurred to him that perhaps Bant was not just trying to be polite when she told him he was handsome by human standards of aesthetics.

Being handsome was a curse, Obi Wan decided, as he politely fled from an overly friendly handmaiden by claiming he needed to examine the wiring in the cockpit. The young Jedi was not very good with mechanics, but it was a convenient enough excuse.

Suprisingly, Captain Panaka was in the cockpit. He took a moment to focus on the scene before him. Panaka's face was neutral and turned towards a screen where he presumably was viewing something. No sound came from the screen to hint at what it was playing. Panaka's body was tense and alert, though he started a bit when the Jedi entered.

"What are you doing?" Obi Wan inquired.

"I'm keeping surveillance on the area surrounding the ship. I don't want to be caught by surprise if someone comes to attack the queen." His tone was accusatory, as though implying that Obi Wan was being lax in his protection.

The Jedi released the tendril of anger at the unfair assumption. Panaka was protective of his queen and frustrated by the misfortune that had befallen his planet. "I assure you, Captain, I am alert for possible danger."

"I'm sure you are." Panaka answered gruffly, turning back to examine the screen.

Obi Wan noticed the slight slump in his shoulders, and the faint lowering and raising of the man's eyelids. A gentle probe into his aura confirmed his suspicions. "You're exhausted, Captain. You need to rest."

"Can't," he replied tersely "It's my turn to watch the screen, the others are resting."

It would seem the guards had been keeping surveillance in shifts. Obi Wan could admire their fervor to protect their monarch.

"Still, Captain, you need to be well rested. What good will you be to her majesty if you are worn out when danger comes?"

Panaka considered the words. He was not an illogical man, and would see the validity in this point. Still, the guard hesitated, "Would you watch the screen, then?"

The Jedi tensed. He had avoided the subject of his blindness while among the Naboo. They already had their doubts about his and Qui Gon's competence. They had questioned the Jedi at every turn, from the decision to take the queen to Coruscant, the emergency landing at Tatooine, and the plan to obtain the parts needed. The last thing Obi Wan wanted was to give them another reason to mistrust them.

"I will watch over the surrounding areas," the Padawan answered honestly. "You rest."

While Obi Wan could not promise to watch the screen, he could stretch his Force sense up to three miles in all directions, and farther if in only one. This proved to be a valuable skill, as he could "see" everything for miles around, even when inside a closed room. It was also a limitation, since humans atop a mountain can see for hundreds of miles around them, while his range remained unchanged.

When he finally convinced the Captain to withdraw for the evening, Obi Wan settled in the pilot's seat and stretched his sense in the Force. They were surrounded by sand on all sides, though beyond his range, he felt in the Force the thrumming mass of life that was Mos Eisley.

In the more immediate area, a few sand lizards burrowed into the ground. Futher out, he sensed a pack of small furred creatures, about two meters in height. There were eighteen in this pack. Their shape was rodent-like and the padawan eventually identified them as womp rats. Though mostly scavengers, womp rats could pose a bit of a danger if they decided to attack as a pack. Still, while inside the ship everyone was perfectly safe.

When a guard came to relieve him, Obi Wan was glad. Tatooine was not the most fascinating of planets. He relaxed his senses enough to be more at ease, for the immense load of sensory information could become tiring, but still enough to be aware of any threats.

Deciding to eat before retiring for the night, he found the galley of the ship. He had yet to visit this particular area, since the food was prepared by the handmaidens. Thankfully, none of them were in the vicinity at the moment.

After the hours spent on surveillance and a quick snack, a trip to the refresher was in order. He found one relatively quickly. A quick scan told him that, while there were others in the room, probably the other rescued guards or pilots, this refresher was built for multiple occupants. Thus he had no qualms about entering.

That is, until he heard a distinctly feminine shriek. There was a cry of alarm from most of the occupants, though he was sure he heard a couple of them giggling. Startled and mortified, the young man backed away, his fluid grace momentarily lost.

His retreating back bumped into a body outside the door, this one was, fortunately, male.

"Jedi Kenobi," the guard's stern voice was laced with disapproval, "This is the _women's_ 'fresher."

"Sorry," the padawan responded meekly, "I didn't see the sign."


	6. Part II, Chapter 2

"Your majesty, the new hyperdrive has been successfully installed," Obi Wan reported to the Queen. "My master has one last errand to run in Mos Eisley. When he returns, we shall depart immediately for Coruscant."

"How long will he be gone? We have been delayed long enough." The queen's cultured voice betrayed anxiety.

"Don't worry, your majesty, Master Jinn is aware of the seriousness of the situation and I'm sure…" the senior padawan's voice trailed. He sensed a disturbance in the Force. He stretched his senses, until he detected a diminutive figure running towards the ship. Further behind it, the familiar form of his master was locked in combat with a being that seemed to exude darkness. "He's in trouble."

"What?" the queen asked in confusion.

At that moment the small being arrived, announcing, rather unnecessarily since Obi Wan already knew, that Qui Gon needs help. The padawan was already making his way to the cockpit where the pilot, Ric Olie, sat, trying to discern the Jedi Master's location. Obi Wan pointed in the direction where he sensed his master "Right over there. Fly low."

The pilot brought the ship closer, allowing Qui Gon to leap onto the entrance ramp and escape. Once safely on board, he collapsed and Obi Wan was at his side in an instant.

Every sense was focused on his Master, with just barely enough left over to be vaguely aware of the people around him. As his master assured him he was fine and briefly explained the encounter, Obi Wan listened to the pace of his breathing and heart rate, and mentally scanned him for injury. He gratefully noted the absence of the tangy scent of blood, though his master was much more exhausted than seemed usual, even after a fight.

The diminutive figure from before was now on Obi Wan's left. He too, was concerned for the elder Jedi, but was needlessly pestering the man with questions. Could the child not see that that his master needed to catch his breath?

His master, however, did not seem annoyed. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi Wan Kenobi." Qui Gon introduced.

The padawan nodded in the boy's direction, but kept his senses trained on Qui Gon, studying his features now for a grimace or creased brow indicative of pain. It was only when the master cleared his throat that Obi Wan spread his concentration enough to realize that the child had offered him a handshake, which was now being left hanging.

Quickly, he placed his hand around the boy's own, completing the handshake. He sensed the child had felt insulted by his apparent lack of manners but he couldn't bring himself to care too much. The offense had been unintentional, and he had other things to worry about. The presence of this dark warrior, trained in the Jedi arts, posed some serious questions. He recalled his bad feeling from the beginning of the mission. Perhaps it had to do with this being?

There seemed to be something bigger, something more elusive, behind this. They were missing something important. He would have to search the Unifying Force for it later. Mentioning this to his master now would most likely bring another admonishment to not center on anxieties.

* * *

Padme could scarcely believe they had just left Tatooine and were finally on their way to Coruscant. That maverick Jedi, Qui Gon Jinn, had actually pulled through; his decision to gamble so heavily on the young Anakin vindicated.

The young, disguised queen had just finished relating her adventure in Mos Eisley to Sabe. Normally, her other handmaidens would have been eager to listen in, but strangely enough each had found some excuse or another to be elsewhere. Padme was rather curious to know what they were up to.

In the cockpit, she found the pilot, Ric Ollie, showing Anakin different aspects of the controls. Qui Gon Jinn was also in the cockpit, seemingly satisfied to watch Ollie and the boy interact.

Padme thought it strange that Jinn's apprentice was not around. The young man had hovered around his master for a while after the encounter with the mysterious dark warrior, concerned about Qui Gon's welfare. For his part, Qui Gon seemed preoccupied with Anakin.

"Ric, have you seen the other handmaidens?" Padme questioned.

"Perhaps they're in the galley, preparing a meal." the pilot offered.

After nodding her thanks, Padme made her way in that direction. While passing through an area where some of the sleeping quarters were located, a sound caught her attention.

Quietly, she approached the noise and recognized it as giggling. Her missing handmaidens were now found, but what were they doing in this area of the ship? Padme was fairly certain that this section had been allocated as the men's quarters.

The giggling was coming from one cabin in particular. Still moving silently, she drew closer to discover just what was going on.

In the room, Rabe was holding a bundle of tan and cream colored clothing in her arms. Eirtae had a dark brown robe in her grasp. The small group of handmaidens had mischievous grins on their faces, and their eyes were alight with humor. Padme sighed internally. They must be pulling a practical joke on one of the Naboo guards. Those girls could be trouble if left bored for too long.

The young queen was not prepared for the sound coming from the cabin's refresher. A male voice called out, with a weary pleading tone, "Ladies, _please_, I need my clothes back."

More giggling, then Eirtae, the obvious leader of this entourage, called out "Well then, come out and get them." This set the girls back into another fit of giggles.

"No!" The accented voice sounded flustered. "If you don't leave immediately, I'll report your behavior to the queen."

"If you want to report us, you have to come out." Eirtae pointed out in a singsong voice. "Besides, you walked into _our_ 'fresher first. You had this coming."

"It shouldn't be so easy to steal from a Jedi." Rabe added. "Just be glad we left the towel."

"As ambassador to Supreme Chancellor Vallorum, I must warn you that harassing a Republic official…"

Padme decided to step in before things got out of hand. Arms crossed in front of her, she declared, "Ladies, Queen Amidala will _not_ be pleased."

The group jumped, startled, and spun around to face their disguised queen.

"Miss Padme!" Eirtae declared, face turning red, "This…isn't what it looks like!"

"Really? Because it looks like you've stolen that Jedi's clothes." Padme held up a hand to cut off further protests. She did not wish the Jedi to figure out she was really the one in charge. "Look, you can explain yourselves to the queen later. Just give me the clothing and leave."

The girls reluctantly complied. After they were gone, Padme approached the refresher door. "I apologize for their behavior, Jedi Kenobi. Here are your clothes."

There was a long pause as he ascertained whether or not the danger was truly past, then the door slid open just enough for him to snake out an arm and retrieve his garments.

The door slid shut, and she could hear the young Jedi moving around as he dressed. Padme was about to exit, when she remembered that Eirtae had accused him of invading the ladies' refresher earlier. Deciding that she wanted to hear his side of the story before she questioned the others, the queen waited.

Before long, the refresher door opened completely. Obi Wan stepped out fully dressed, though beads of water still dripped from his ginger hair. He hesitated before speaking. "Thank you for your help, Miss…?"

"Padme," she supplied. "What were you doing in the ladies' refresher?"

"That was an accident." His blue-grey eyes met hers unwaveringly. "I did not realize it was the wrong refresher until I entered. And I assure you I saw nothing."

Padme considered him skeptically. "Then why were they teasing you so?"

At this, the Jedi sank down onto a couch, despairingly. "I don't know! You should ask _them_. They've been this way since Tatooine."

Her expression softened when she noted his genuine frustration. "You should have informed the queen if they were bothering you."

"I was reluctant to complain to her majesty," Obi Wan admitted "Monarchs can be quite volatile. I did not wish to offend her by accusing her handmaidens of wrongdoing."

"Why would that offend her?" Padme asked in disbelief.

"I'm merely being cautious, milady," the padawan clarified. "I am not familiar with Queen Amidala's temperament. Once I was nearly sentenced to death for a petty offence. At least, it seemed so to me, but the emperor was most displeased. If Master Qui Gon were not such a skilled negotiator, I would have quite literally lost my head."

"Queen Amidala would _never_…" Padme burst out passionately.

"Perhaps not, milady," Obi Wan conceding, waving his hands out placatingly, "But you can't blame me for erring on the side of caution."

Padme considered this, and allowed herself a small smile. "I suppose not."

"Do you think they'll stop now?" the padawan asked hopefully. "I wanted to ask Master Jinn for advice, but he's been…busy."

"I'll see to it that they do," Padme agreed, "Those girls can be a handful sometimes."

"I have to admit they're the most persistent…admirers…I've ever encountered." Obi Wan's face flushed. "I don't understand what I've done to invite their attention. I _told_ them that, as a Jedi, attachments- especially romantic attachments- are forbidden, but that only made it worse."

Padme smiled at that. "I suppose it's human nature to want what is forbidden."

Obi Wan frowned. "That's rather foolish. If something is forbidden, there's a reason for it. To ignore such a warning is hazardous."

"Really? And what's so dangerous about attachments?" Padme queried challengingly.

"It's dangerous for a Jedi," the young man asserted. "Strong emotions can cloud our judgment. If one gives in to love, he will naturally be led to fear of loss, sorrow during separation, jealousy, and more. This will take a Jedi into the path of the Dark Side. He becomes a danger to himself and others."

"You expect me to believe that love is evil?" This seemed a little paranoid to the young queen.

"No. It's not. At least, not in and of itself," Obi Wan amended. "It's complicated, Miss Padme. Not something I could explain quickly."

"I see." She let the subject drop as he obviously had no desire to discuss it. "I hope you can forgive my companions' behavior."

"Unforgiveness is not the way of the Jedi," he assured her.

"Of course not." Padme was inwardly amused by his serious manner. "And I assure you they meant no harm."

"No, they did not." Obi Wan agreed, a wry smile on his features. "If they had, I could have at least justified using the Force against them. Self defense, you know."


	7. Part II, Chapter 3

Obi Wan strode down the elegant hallway. At least, the high arch of the ceiling and the softness of the carpet under his boots suggested it was elegant. The familiar hum of Corusanti traffic murmured in his ear, audible through the thin panes of the windows along his right. To the left now was his destination, the door to Queen Amidala's temporary quarters.

He lifted a hand to knock, but was surprised when the door whooshed open. In front of him was Padme, a handmaiden, and one of the few that did not make him uncomfortable. He recognized her strong yet somehow gentle aura in the Force. He guessed that she was just barely Force sensitive, not enough to be trained as a Jedi, but there nonetheless.

The fragrance of her perfume, an exotic flowery scent, just barely registered in his mind. She smelled much better now, without the sweat and sandy grime of Tatooine that had clung to her since her journey in Mos Eisley.

What Obi Wan Kenobi could not discern, was her elaborate white and red face paint, indicative of Naboo royalty. Nor was he concentrating deeply enough to tell that the style of her clothing and hair was far too extravagant for a mere handmaid.

He bowed politely. "Milady, May I have a word with the queen?"

Padme frowned slightly at the strangely worded request to speak to her. "Of course, come inside Jedi Kenobi."

To her surprise, after thanking her and stepping inside, he immediately walked to Sabe, who happened to be in the room as well, and bowed deeply. "Your majesty, I have a message from the counsel regarding your request for Qui Gon and I to be witnesses during the Senate hearing."

Sabe was clearly startled as well. She and Padme exchanged glances. Had he seen through their ruse and was now subtly teasing them over it? It seemed out of character for the somber young Jedi, but they came to the unspoken agreement to simply go along with it for the moment. "Have a seat, Jedi Kenobi." Sabe waved an arm toward an armchair while she and Padme seated themselves on the sofa opposite it.

Obi Wan seemed to hesitate, as though orienting himself, before settling down in the chair. His eyes met with Sabe's before he spoke. "I regret to inform you, your majesty, that neither Qui Gon nor I will be present at tomorrow's Senate hearing; we cannot testify."

"Why not?" Padme asked, "Surely you see why your testimony would be valuable to our plea to the Senate."

Obi Wan had not expected Padme to speak so openly in a conversation specifically directed to the queen. But she did seem a bit headstrong and brash. Queen Amidala did not appear to mind her interruption, so he responded. "The Supreme Chancellor took a risk, secretly sending Jedi as ambassadors without the Senate Committee of Jedi Affairs' approval. Technically we should not have been on Naboo at all. It may harm your case rather than help it."

"I don't see how your verifying the situation could harm the case. The Senate would have to realize the truth." Sabe commented.

"Your majesty, our right to speak would be in question, and the matter would have to be taken to committee, delaying your hearing." Obi Wan reasoned. "And besides that, Master Qui Gon has been involved in missions in the past, before my apprenticeship, that would cause the Senate to question his impartiality to trade franchises in general."

"Well then what if you were the eyewitness instead, Jedi Kenobi?"

Obi Wan hesitated. "My…value as a witness would also be in question, milady. It would take several sessions with a committee, at least, to convince them of the validity of my testimony."

"Why is that?" Padme pressed, confused. What could this young man have done to make his testimony of questionable worth?

Obi Wan smiled softly. "I am blind, milady."

Both women exchanged bewildered glances.

"I speak the truth. My training and Force sensitivity balance that out, but the Senate will not understand. They cannot understand the nuances of the Force. All they would see is that I can't tell them the color of the robe they wear, nor read the words on a datapad without an assistive electronic device." The young Jedi lowered his head, as though in apology for his condition. "All in all, it would be best to have the hearing without us, at least initially. When we learn the outcome of this one, we can take whatever action is necessary for the good of your people. If that means long, drawn out committee sessions, so be it."

"It must not come to that," Sabe said gravely, now realizing, with Padme, that Obi Wan genuinely believed her to be the queen. He had been introduced to Sabe as such, and apparently, his Jedi senses were not to be dissuaded by visual disguises. "My people need help now."

Obi Wan smiled again, this one rather sad. "I agree, your highness, but I do not put much confidence in politics." Then, as though suddenly realizing he was addressing a politician, he stood and bowed. "Forgive my presumption, your majesty. I do hope all goes well in the Senate tomorrow. May the Force be with you."

* * *

**I have wondered before why Padme never asked for the Jedi to verify her story before the Senate. That way, they could avoid being sent to committee. So, this is my story's explanation for why she could not.**


	8. Part II, Chapter 4

Obi Wan could scarcely believe they were all on their way back to Naboo. What the queen hoped to accomplish by going back was a mystery to the padawan. He could not see how their presence on the planet would help the situation. Frankly, he would rather stay on Coruscant. There was much thinking he needed to do, to sort out this recent development with his Master and Anakin.

Obi Wan had known that the Counsel would deny the boy training. It was obvious to the padawan that Anakin was too old to begin learning the detachment and control necessary to a Jedi's life. The child was nothing if not emotional and needy in attachments. His aura was positively choked with it.

He had been surprised, however, by Qui Gon's declaration that he was taking Anakin as his padawan learner. Obi Wan's initial reaction had been shock and, yes, hurt, that the man was willing to cast him aside for a boy he barely knew.

Then he realized that Qui Gon did not mean to abandon him, but promote him. He felt truly honored and genuinely pleased that his master would consider him ready for knighthood.

Even so, his treacherous mind whispered that Qui Gon would not be so quick to promote him, if he had not needed him out of the way. The young man clamped down on those thoughts. His Master would never allow him to take the rather dangerous Jedi Trials if he did not genuinely believe Obi Wan capable of passing them. Though the two were experiencing some friction, the padawan trusted his master implicitly.

More troubling was the vague feelings of jealousy he experienced towards the boy. Obi Wan had struggled so hard to get Master Jinn to notice him, even with Master Yoda's support. And it took his near death before the man accepted him as his padawan. Even after being chosen, their relationship had a rocky start, with trust being built painstakingly slow.

Anakin had been accepted immediately, in defiance of the Counsel's wishes, and somehow attained his master's instant trust.

Such emotions were unworthy of a Jedi, Obi Wan knew. Whenever he released them into the Force, he found them reoccurring. The young Jedi could not shake the feeling that Anakin was dangerous. It was not that he wished the boy ill. On the contrary, if Anakin was indeed the Chosen One, he wanted the boy to succeed.

Clearly, Obi Wan needed to meditate and find his center again. The Temple was well suited for such a task, but it appeared that an empty cabin in the Nubian cruiser would have to do. It took some time to find a place where he could isolate himself from the handmaidens, but he finally was able to settle into a trance-like state.

The young man was well into his meditation when light footsteps approached, louder than a Jedi's but with a softness indicative of small body mass.

Anakin hesitated at the threshold before his curiosity got the better of him. "What're you doing?" the child inquired.

Obi Wan briefly considered ignoring him, but decided his concentration was broken anyway. He may as well talk to the boy. Interaction may even help him resolve his negative feelings. "I _was_ meditating," he replied.

"Oh." The boy took the reply as a rebuke, and was hesitant to continue the conversation. Trepidation trickled through the boy's Force presence.

Obi Wan had no desire to be feared and it was with regret that he noted the boy's reaction. "Jedi meditate to clear their thoughts, control their emotions, and build a deeper connection to the Force." Obi Wan offered the explanation as reassurance that the interruption had not upset him.

Anakin relaxed at that. "You meditate a lot?"

"Yes." Obi Wan somehow found conversation with the child difficult. Actually, connecting with strangers was never his strong point.

"Do you fly around to many different planets?" Anakin continued, changing the topic to one he found more interesting.

"Quite a few, actually." Obi Wan acknowledged. "Even for Jedi, my master and I travel extensively." He hesitated, then added "You are fortunate to be chosen by Master Jinn. He is a great Jedi."

"Yeah, I'll bet he's the greatest ever!" Anakin declared fervently.

"The 'greatest ever' _might_ be a bit of an overstatement, young one." Obi Wan corrected, inwardly amused by the hyperbole.

The two drifted into silence. Anakin stared out of the cruiser's viewscreen to the lines of stars streaking past. The boy was not one to remain quiet for long. "This is only the second time I've been in hyperspace," he admitted. "It's beautiful."

"Is it?" Obi Wan quietly replied. No one had ever mentioned hyperspace looking any different from regular space. It certainly felt different, so it made sense.

"You don't think so, Obi Wan, sir?"

"I…I never cared for flying," the Jedi answered finally, trying to open himself more to the boy. "And hyperspace always makes me feel uncomfortable. It's unnatural, moving faster than the speed of light. I suppose I've never found anything beautiful about it."

Obi Wan had different measures of beauty than most, so the answer was not a lie. He really did not wish to be the object of Anakin's pity, so he did not mention his sightlessness.

Anakin shook his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could dislike flying. He and Obi Wan were so different, the boy mused. And he got the feeling flying wasn't the only thing this Jedi disliked. Anakin supposed the other was only barely tolerating him. After all, he nearly refused to shake his hand when they met. Even now while they talked, there was distance.

The boy was glad Qui Gon decided to train him, but he hoped this Obi Wan guy wouldn't have to be around all the time when he did.

* * *

Padme entered the dark galley in order to get a glass of water. She couldn't quite remember where the light panel was located, so she began brushing her hands along the wall in the general vicinity.

"Good evening, milady."

Padme gasped and jumped at the voice that rose up in the darkness. "O-Obi Wan. You startled me. What are you doing sneaking around in the dark, anyway?" Though she was more embarrassed by her reaction than annoyed at him, the statement just came out.

"I wasn't sneaking, I was merely preparing something to eat. The darkness doesn't hinder me."

"M…my mistake. I forgot you can't tell if the lights are on or not." By now, Padme was quite embarrassed at herself. Why would Obi Wan be sneaking around? He had as much right to be in the galley as she.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust, so she could make out the shadowy form that accompanied the accented voice. "Actually, I _can_ tell whether the lights are on, as there would be an active flow of electricity in the conduits running through the lighting system." He sounded annoyed with her. "I can sense the small ripples in the Force created by such electrical pulses and that tells me the lights are on."

"Well, you don't need to get so defensive over it. How was I to know that?" Padme retorted.

She could tell the Jedi had lowered his head. He breathed out a sigh. "You're right. It's just…"

He trailed off, but Padme could guess what he had been trying to say. "You probably don't appreciate being judged by your blindness. That's why you hide it."

Her last statement must have been construed as an accusation, for the padawan quickly replied, "I never claimed sight as one of my abilities. If people assume I can see, it's hardly my business to correct them." The annoyance had flared up in his tone again.

Padme shook her head, "Padawan Kenobi, if you're going to take offense to everything I say, I see no point in continuing this conversation." With that she turned to leave.

Her departure was impeded by a light grip on her forearm. "Wait." He paused to collect his words. "You're right. My behavior was inappropriate. Please forgive me."

It was odd to be alone in the dark with the Jedi, especially now that he was so close, hand on her arm. "A-apology accepted."

Realizing her discomfort, he quickly withdrew, then reached out to activate the light panel she couldn't find earlier. "Is that better?"

"Yes, thanks." Padme proceeded to retrieve a glass with which to drink some water, while Obi Wan went back to whatever he'd been doing earlier.

She watched as he opened a cabinet and paused to consider its contents. Then he pulled out a container, shook it, and set it aside. Another container was retrieved, and after another shake, also set to the side. The third container was shaken, then opened. The Jedi sniffed at its contents, frowned, and set this one aside as well.

"What are you looking for?" Padme inquired finally. All the containers were clearly labeled, but that obviously was not helping him.

"I have some tea prepared, but it needs sugar." Obi Wan responded. He continued his methodical search, and Padme noticed that he had not asked for her help.

There on the table, was a plate with some of the noodles in sauce left over from dinner earlier (Obi Wan had not joined them that time). Beside it was a steaming mug of tea. She wondered how long it had taken him to prepare this himself.

Obi Wan had found the right cabinet for the sugar, the one filled with various spices and condiments. He opened a container of lorental, a powdered flavoring that was physically similar to sugar (except for its bluish color), but that actually had a sour taste. The Jedi carefully sprinkled a few grains into his palm, tasted it, and set this canister aside with a slightly puckered expression.

It would have been easy to just grab the sugar container herself and give to him. If he took much longer, his meal would grow cold. Instead she settled on a middle ground. "It's three jars to the left."

Obi Wan's hand paused at the container he was about to pull out, and instead drifted three containers to the left as Padme had instructed. This jar was pulled out with hesitance. He shook it, sniffed it, and finally sprinkled a few grains on his palm for a taste. "Oh, it _is _the sugar." He smiled, pleased.

"Did you think I was lying?"

"Of course not, milady." He stirred in a few spoonfuls of the sweetener into his drink. Gesturing toward the pot still on the warming unit, the Jedi indicated that Padme was welcomed to some tea herself. "I'd be remiss, however, to not be wary of pranks. You're the nicest of the handmaidens, for sure, but you can't blame me for keeping my guard up."

He sipped the tea experimentally and smiled again. "Thank you."

"Oh you don't have to thank me." Padme assured, helping herself to a cup of tea before seating herself across from him. "It's just sugar, and it's not even mine."

"Not for the sugar," he clarified. "Thank you for letting me get it myself. Not many people are tactful enough to know when to help and when not to help. It can get frustrating sometimes, to be treated like an invalid."

"A Jedi? Get frustrated? Never!" She remarked in mock astonishment.

"I'm afraid I've already disillusioned you on that, Miss Padme," Obi Wan grinned.

"Just 'Padme,' would be fine." She corrected, then thought about his statement. "I do seem to find you in the most inopportune moments, don't I? I hope the other ladies have been more civil toward you."

"It's all right now. I barely encounter them anymore anyway."

"What? You've not walked into any more ladies' refreshers?" She remarked slyly.

A few noodles slipped from the fork as Obi Wan reddened, "I-I told you that was an accident."

"Yes, and it makes sense now, 'I saw nothing,' indeed." She laughed.

"Well, that _is_ the truth." He pointed out, though his face was growing redder in embarrassment. "They should consider putting the restroom signs in Braille."

"I'll give you that point, at least. I suppose I never expected to have blind passengers aboard."

"That's hardly your fault, though." Obi Wan assured. "This is the queen's transport, not yours."

Now it was Padme's turn to blush at her error. "Right." She hastily cast about for a change of topic, to deflect from her offhand remark. "Obi Wan, you mentioned last trip about almost being beheaded. I have to admit, I've been curious ever since, especially when you said the offense was minor. Would you mind…?"

The padawan fidgeted a bit. "I don't know. It's not that interesting. And I'm not very good at telling stories."

"That's all right," Padme insisted. "I'm all ears."

"There's not much to tell." Obi Wan shrugged finally. "I stepped on the emperor's daughter's foot."

"You…stepped on her foot?" She repeated incredulously. "There had to be more to it."

"Yes. Well, I mean, we were dancing at first." Obi Wan elaborated. "This was more of a diplomatic mission, and their culture places a strong emphasis on classic dance. It would have been rude to refuse to participate, and it wasn't an issue, since any Jedi worth his lightsaber knows how to dance.***** However, the movements of this style were unfamiliar and I stepped right when I should have gone left and then…I stepped on her foot accidently." Obi Wan finished with another shrug. "I didn't even hurt her. Just scuffed up one of her new white slippers."

"And the emperor sentenced you to _death_?"

"They were very expensive slippers."

"You're teasing me!" She accused, a disbelieving smile on her face.

"You're obviously unfamiliar with the Terannian people. It's an extremely lavish and materialistic society. Their culture also focuses heavily on the arts, with dance being a major aspect." His face took on a thoughtful expression as he recalled details of the planet. "They don't have much crime on their planet because nearly all criminals are executed. It's quite a deterrent, and eliminates the problem of repeat offenders. The royalty in particular are rather strict. To step on the foot of a royal is considered insulting enough; to ruin a valuable piece of footwear is simply an atrocity."

The young Jedi finished the tale with a sigh. "I was fifteen at the time, and Qui Gon was able to successfully negotiate my pardon. However, I've never danced with royalty since and, Force willing, I never will."

"Oh, come on. Not all royalty are like that. And some queens are actually elected democratically, like Queen Amidala."

"I've been traumatized enough, thank you." Obi Wan insisted with a chuckle. "Royalty or not, politicians can be quite troublesome. Fortunately, I doubt I need to worry about Queen Amidala asking me to dance any time in the near future!"

* * *

*I did not make up that Jedi dancing concept. I read in a Star Wars Clone War novel, The Cestus Deception that Obi Wan was ballroom dancing with an insectoid queen. It mentioned that Jedi were trained as younglings in the basic dance forms both for coordination and in preparation for diplomatic encounters. I believe it mentioned the dance being similar to the "Alderaanian Tango." However, it's been several years since I read this book so I may be way off with the particulars. I do remember for sure it mentioned Yoda introducing younglings to dance. That was a hilarious mental image.


	9. Part II, Chapter 5

Padme became increasingly nervous the closer their ship came to Naboo. She and Sabe had switched roles again, and had been discussing for hours the possibilities they may face when they arrived on the planet. At one point, they also discussed their blind Jedi protector.

"I don't understand why the Jedi Council didn't provide us with another team." Sabe confided.

"Why?" Padme asked incredulously, "He's not given us any reason to doubt his abilities. I don't believe the Jedi Council would have sent him on this mission in the first place if they didn't think him capable."

"They began this mission as _ambassadors_," Sabe reminded her. "He may be a skilled negotiator, but how will he protect us in a battle?"

"He fought well enough when they rescued us from the droids. And he did free the pilots before we escaped." Padme pointed out. "I doubt we need to worry about him."

"I suppose not," Sabe conceded, though her tone expressed lingering hesitation.

Once their private discussion was over, Padme became restless, as often happened when in closed spaces. To relieve this feeling, she went for a walk around the craft. Her handmaiden disguise allowed her a bit more freedom in maneuvering and even interacting with others.

Padme noticed Master Jinn was giving Anakin some kind of lesson. It looked like a breathing exercise of sorts. The two were quite engrossed in the lesson, so she thought it best not to disturb them.

Moving on, she chanced upon Padawan Kenobi. He was alone, and practicing some kind of martial arts form. His lightsaber was clipped to his belt, unused at the moment while he went through a series of complex unarmed maneuvers.

Padme had been trained in self defense herself, so she watched the young Jedi's technique with curious, evaluating eyes. His movements were graceful and fluid and it was evident that he was quite fit and acrobatic. Watching him like this removed any residual doubt she may have harbored about his skill.

Somehow, he was aware of her presence, though his back was toward her. Then again, it obviously didn't matter which direction he was facing, Padme reflected, since he doesn't employ his eyes in whatever method he uses to locate people and objects.

"Can I help you with something, Miss Padme?" he asked, wondering why she lingered in the entryway as she did.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Padme quickly apologized. "I was only curious about your style of combat."

"Ah, but these are only katas," Obi Wan explained, turning his face so that his sightless eyes met Padme's. "They're mostly used for conditioning, to enhance coordination, balance, and endurance. If you wish to see my style of combat, I'd need to train with a partner."

Padme wasn't sure, but she thought that she sensed just a hint of wistfulness in the Jedi's manner. It suddenly occurred to her that she had not seen the two Jedi interact this entire trip. Master Jinn spent the majority of his time with Anakin, and Obi Wan was seldom around. One of her handmaidens told her the padawan was frequently hiding away to meditate.

"Are you and Master Jinn fighting?" the young woman asked in her usual blunt manner.

The Jedi seemed taken aback by the question. "N-no. We do not fight." Padme's silence must have properly conveyed her incredulity, for he elaborated. "Of late, we _have_ had differences of opinions, but I assure you, it will not hinder our ability to carry out our duty to your queen."

"Then why have you been avoiding one another?"

"We've done no such thing." Obi Wan assured. "Master Qui Gon has just been occupied with the boy. If he needs me, he will find me. I'm respectfully giving him the space he needs, that is all."

Padme frowned thoughtfully at the mention of their youngest companion. "I don't understand why Master Jinn is bringing Anakin with us to Naboo. The idea of putting Ani in danger…"

"My master will ensure his safety." Obi Wan defended. In all honesty, he agreed with Padme. But an apprentice always honors his master. To disagree with him openly in front of near-strangers would be disrespectful.

"Master Jinn is rather reckless." Padme noted.

"But he's been right all this time, hasn't he?" Obi Wan pointed out quietly, in the manner of one who was talking more to himself than anyone else. "Besides, he took me on more dangerous missions than this when I was as young as thirteen."

"But Ani isn't a trained Jedi."

"No, he's not. But if my master has his way, the boy will be."

The two were silent for a moment. "Does Master Jinn plan to train Ani himself?"

Obi Wan turned his face away. "Yes."

Padme knew she was getting closer to the source of the two Jedi's "differences of opinions." She pressed on, "But you don't think he should?"

Obi Wan blinked. This handmaiden was a bold one indeed. "That is a matter between the Jedi High Council and my master."

"You should be a politician, Padawan Kenobi, with the way you answer questions without actually answering them."

Obi Wan frowned at that, "Look, Miss Padme, this is a Jedi issue. You need not concern yourself over it."

"Well, you're rather touchy for a Jedi." Padme observed.

"And you're rather impetuous for a handmaiden."

The statement would have earned him a sound rebuke had he not been half-smiling in a way that told her it was a joke, at least mostly. "There's nothing wrong with a handmaiden being assertive," she defended in spite of herself.

"No, I suppose not," Obi Wan conceded genially, "At least, so long as your queen doesn't mind it."

* * *

Jar Jar Binks was currently on his way to the Gungan city, in an attempt to recruit his people for help in the Queen's plan. The Jedi and the Naboo waited in the murky swamp for his return.

During this moment of respite, Qui Gon turned his thoughts back to his current apprentice. The last time he and Obi Wan had spoken was before they were to board the cruiser back to Naboo, and that was only to tell the young man to stay close to Queen Amidala while he went to fetch Anakin. Obi Wan had ignored this imperative. Instead of joining the queen, he went to stand by the handmaiden, Sabe. This surprised Qui Gon, as he thought his apprentice to be past such childish passive-rebellion, but he chose not to comment on the matter.**  
**

As it was clear that the padawan needed time to work through and release his emotions, Qui Gon had given him his space onboard the starship. He had spent his time with Anakin while waiting for Obi Wan to approach him, as he knew the youth would do when he was ready. The young Jedi spent almost the whole of the journey in meditation, rarely joining the others even for meals. Thus, the elder was surprised again when they landed on Naboo with the tension still unresolved.

The Jedi Master could guess what was troubling his apprentice. Obi Wan had been intimating for almost a year that he would like a chance at the Jedi Trials. Each time the subject came up, Qui Gon flatly told him he was not ready. He really had been planning to recommend Obi Wan to the Trials once this mission was completed, but he had not said as much to the padawan. His declaration at the Council chambers could be construed as an attempt to cast off his apprentice, rather than a genuine belief in his ability. Furthermore, Obi Wan felt uneasy about the prospect of Anakin's training and it must frustrate him that his master refused to consider his opinion on the matter.

Yet, Qui Gon was doing what he felt was right and, most importantly, what the Force was leading him to do. He was also confident Obi Wan would come to understand his decision. The apprentice had always demonstrated an uncanny perception in the Force, and Qui Gon hoped their bond was not so weak as to be undermined by a few misunderstandings.

"Jar Jar's on his way to the Gungan City, Master."

Ah, there was his apprentice now. And when he states obvious facts that Qui Gon is already aware of, it only means he is trying to find a neutral way to begin a conversation about which he is nervous. An apology was coming soon.

Obi Wan approached, treading carefully as he tested the ground with his boots. The two Jedi had a brief exchange speculating about the coming event. Then silence reigned between them for a few moments. Finally, Obi Wan settled his sightless gaze on his master's eyes.

"I'm sorry for my behavior, Master. It's not my place to disagree with you about the boy." Obi Wan hesitated and Qui Gon allowed himself a smile when he considered that he still knew his padawan so well. "And I _am _grateful that you think I'm ready for the Trials."

Though it was only three sentences, the Jedi were at a point in their bond where even those few words could repair the breach that had been plaguing them since Tattooine. Well, almost. Qui Gon still needed to respond.

"You have been a good apprentice," the elder said, placing a hand on Obi Wan's shoulder. "And you're a much wiser man than I am. I foresee that you will become a great Jedi."

The praise was unexpected, but well appreciated, if the young man's embarrased grin was any indication. Qui Gon was normally very reserved in his commendations. Even in front of the High Council, he had not been so generous: calling the boy stubborn and saying he had much to learn (and what being alive did not?) before declaring him "competent." They both knew he would never praise Obi Wan so highly unless he truly meant it.

As easily as that, the rift between them was closed.


	10. Part II, Chapter 6

Occasionally, Obi Wan would be asked by some curious sentient if he wished he could see. The Jedi would smile and, with a slight shake of the head, say there was no use in wishing for what could never happen. The Force had willed him to be born blind, and he accepted that.

The answer, though honest, was not entirely accurate. He accepted his blindness, but there were times when he desired to know just what it was about a sunrise that caused his master to wake up inhumanely early to watch it. He knew that he was missing something, when the other passengers aboard the ship on which he was travelling gasped in delight as they approached Bellazura, a planet renown for its beauty. And when he attended a sleepover with Garen and Reeft, all those years ago, he wished he could have watched that holofilm without needing Garen to describe the scenes to him in hushed whispers, so as not to disturb the other padawans.

There was one circumstance in which Obi Wan had never longed for visual sight. That was lightsaber combat. He was always at the top of his class in this subject. It was in the dance of blades that he benefited most from the absolute dependence on the Force that his blindness necessitated.

Thus, Obi Wan was battling confidently against this mysterious dark warrior they encountered. He and his Master were on either side of the being, manuevering with their usual seamless teamwork. Their opponent had a resonating Dark Side presence, and there was no question in Obi Wan's mind that he was a Sith.

As deeply attuned with the Force as he was, Obi Wan was able to dodge a kick that would have sent him careening off the narrow catwalk. The thought of what may have happened if he had plummeted off the edge rattled him briefly, but only briefly, for he had to focus on this battle. Together, he and his Master forced the dark warrior further and further down the walkway. Or was the dark being actually leading them?

"Obi Wan, withdraw." Qui Gon commanded abruptly.

Every fiber of his being protested, but the padwan was incapable of disobeying this particular order. It had been deeply ingrained into his training from the earliest years of his apprenticeship. Should his master see an unexpected element that Obi Wan could not, due to his blindness- an element Qui Gon knew the padawan would be unable to sense immediately otherwise- his master would give the one word order: withdraw.

"Withdraw" was not an order Qui Gon ever employed lightly. Obi Wan's noncompliance would almost certainly cost him his life. Thus, he retreated a few meters back on the narrow catwalk, enough to distance himself as he tried to discern just what his master was warning him about. Qui Gon was currently too fiercely occupied to elaborate any further.

It was frustrating to stand by when all he wanted was to be there to help his master. The open catwalk lead directly into a hallway, and the two combatants were making their way toward it. He could hear their lightsabers clashing, but listened past it and became aware of a barely audible hum. It was the hum of something electronic. Perhaps this was the danger?

Then he heard something interesting. There was a series of clicks throughout the hallway. His master and the Sith were now moving down this hall, still fiercely battling. But Obi Wan could not join them until he knew what the click was and why it was a hazard.

Now that he had an inclination of what to look for, Obi Wan paid attention to the slight ripples of the Force that indicated the flowing of electricity. Most often, this electrical flow meant that lights were on, and there were many lights in the area. But there had to be something more to this particular energy flux.

The clicks were silent now, even the humming had ceased, and the fight was still moving down the hall. When the clicks restarted, Obi Wan paid careful consideration to the exact location of the source of the sounds. There was some kind of electronic conduit set up every few feet into the hallway. They were activating and deactivating in cycles.

The final conduit clicked, and the combat stopped abruptly. Obi Wan sensed that Qui Gon and the Sith were on either side of that conduit, meaning that the source of that click had separated them. Neither seemed inclined to breech this unknown barrier, judging from the fact that his master powered down his lightsaber, and the Sith made no move to attack him.

Now the puzzle fit.

Light was an entity that Obi Wan never could, and likely never would, learn to sense. It was immaterial and mysterious, not quite particles, and not quite waves. The electricity that elicited light, however, was perceptible. The mysterious, undiscernable obstacle between the two opponents must be highly concentrated light: a laser. These laser barriers are set up at equal intervals along the hall, and went through cycles of activity and rest.

And here was the danger from which Qui Gon had protected him. If Obi Wan had run into the laser barrier, it would have killed him instantly.

The padawan approached the first laser barrier. Now that he was aware of the threat, he was free to rejoin the battle. Up ahead, Qui Gon was meditating, building up his energy for the coming engagement. He sensed that his master was tiring, and this brought a heavy sense of regret that his disability had prevented him from being at his side, however briefly.

Obi Wan was so troubled by this thought, he nearly started when he felt his master emotions through their bond. The elder harbored no disappointment in him. Rather, he was pleased that his padawan had been sharp-witted enough to decipher the puzzle on his own in so short a time.

This made Obi Wan suspect that Qui Gon had purposely not identified the danger. Ever the teacher, he had handed the youth a test in the midst of battle.

Sensing the flow in electricity again, Obi Wan activated his lightsaber, impatient to join his master, as he waited for the laser barrier to deactivate. When it did, the apprentice raced to the larger area beyond, where the combat broiled.

His pulse quickened when he realized that the electric flow was active again, and he slid to a halt mere inches before the last laser barrier. The line between success and failure loomed invisibly before him. He could not sense it, but it was there just the same, separating him from Qui Gon more effectively than a thick durasteel wall. There was no option left but to wait.

Qui Gon was one of the best swordsman of the Order, but he was tiring. This youthful Sith seemed to have a limitless supply of energy. Clamping down on his restless impatience, Obi Wan focused on their every movement, and his breath caught when the Force sent a warning. The being pushed his lightsaber hilt into Qui Gon's face, disorienting the Jedi briefly. That moment was all the Sith needed to finish the duel.

"NOOO!" An anguished scream reverberated through the chamber as the Sith's lightsaber blade tore through his master's body. It took a moment for Obi Wan to realize the scream was his own. He could already feel his master's aura weakening in the Force as his life drained from him.

There was a soft thud as Qui Gon fell to his knees, a more muffled thud as his body dropped to the ground. The master's pain rang through their training bond and for a moment Obi Wan felt literally sick with fear. He was going to lose his master.

The Sith's triumph and satisfaction radiated like waves in the Force. The demon then turned its attention to Obi Wan, still trapped behind the shield. The young Jedi felt an unconscious twitch of muscle at the corner of his mouth as his jaw clenched tightly, rage building. Anger at the creature, for mortally wounding his master, was merely a shield from the anger at himself, for failing to be there to save him.

At that moment, tearing his focus from Qui Gon, the whole universe narrowed until there was only the Sith. Obi Wan's every sense was trained upon the creature. Nothing else existed. He would destroy the monster, make him pay for cutting down his master.

The Sith's posture was aggressive, confident, as he paced, waiting for the shield to open. Its breathing was heavy yet controlled.

With the deepness of his own concentration, Obi Wan could discern even the rough, sandy texture of its horns, the tiny hairline crack in one of them, the light sheen of sweat that ghosted its skin. Anger gave him a focus unlike he'd ever experienced before.

The wait could not have been more than a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Impatience had him bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, body ready for the confrontation. The click of the changing cycle was all Obi Wan needed before he exploded in motion, attacking with a ferocity that momentarily startled his opponent.

He pressed his advantage, funneling his rage into aggression, reveling in this heady, empowering new experience of the Force. Seductive, intoxicating, it whispered compelling promises of the power to destroy his master's murderer.

These promises seemed forthcoming when he cleaved the demon's lightsaber in half, leaving only one active blade. He gained the upper hand, forcing it to retreat briefly. A hard kick landed on Obi Wan. Instead of knocking him over, the Jedi used the momentum to flip and land neatly before locking blades with the Sith.

So focused was he on driving the creature backward, that the Force push caught him completely unprepared. The lightsaber slipped from his grasp and he tumbled into the melting pit several feet before finding purchase on a jutting power node.

The fall startled him enough to realize what he'd done. Horrified at his touching the Dark Side, he only barely registered his own lightsaber falling past him into the core of the melting pit. It was all he could do to continue hanging on as he came to the sickening realization that he nearly betrayed everything he'd been taught. He almost disgraced his own master trying to avenge him.

After this alarming revelation, he took a deep breath, then released it, along with the tendrils of hatred that had him trapped just a few moments prior. With some coaxing, he was able to gather the Light Side of the Force to himself again. Wrapping it closely around him like a favorite robe, and looked to it for guidance.

Above him, the Sith scraped his blade along the pit's edge, showering burning sparks down on the Jedi.

With his anger released, Obi Wan realized he would still need to kill the being, not for revenge, but to protect Naboo. If the padawan failed here, the Queen was certainly the next target. The planet would be thrown into turmoil. The people of Naboo would suffer. Furthermore, he needed to survive this to warn the Counsel that the Sith have indeed reemerged, for there were always two. The consequences of his failure could have dire repercussions for the entire galaxy.

His goal, to kill the Sith, remained unchanged. But his motives were now adjusted appropriately. Such was the subtlety of the Dark Side, the ease with which it could be excused.

Now was not the time to meditate on what it meant to stay in the Light. As his Master was fond of reminding him, he needed to keep his focus on the here and now, so he turned his thoughts to the problem at hand.

His weapon was his life. And currently, his life was melting in the core of this pit. If he did not think of something, his body would shortly follow.

He stretched his senses in the Force and felt his master's saber above him and to his left. The Light Side gave him clarity as he prepared to leap up and claim it. With a great burst of energy, the padawan soared upward, propelled by the Force. At the same time he called his master's weapon to his hand, activating it the moment the cool corrugated handle touch his palm.

Before the Sith could react, Obi Wan flipped over and behind the Zabrak, then cleaved him in half with the blade. He paused briefly, listening to the body fall, and couldn't help but reflect that this was the end of a being who had become enslaved to the Dark. There was no satisfaction in his death, only sorrow for a life twisted and wasted; and understanding that, unless he was mindful, that could very well be him.

He spared only a few seconds on such reflections before he raced to his master's side and, with great gentleness, raised his head slightly off the ground and in his arms.

"It…It's too late, it's…" his master murmured.

"No!" Obi Wan uttered, denying even though he could feel the man's life fade as they spoke. To lose his master would be to lose a very essential part of himself.

"Obi Wan," the elder spoke softly, "promise…promise me you will train the boy."

The youth's heart sank. Anakin's fate was the furthest thing from his mind at this time. And besides that, how was a blind man to train a seeing boy with no prior instruction in the ways of the Force? He did not think he could do it.

But how could he deny his master's dying request?

"I will see to it that he is trained," Obi Wan finally answered, voice thick with sorrow. "I won't be able to teach him myself."

Qui Gon must have felt his fear and doubt, for the next moment he felt his master's calloused and alarmingly cold fingers brush against his cheek. Their training bond was open and unshielded now. Obi Wan could almost hear the mild rebuke in his master's thoughts, accompanied by a mental shake of the head. _"Why so insecure, padawan mine?" _

_"It's difficult to be confident, when you're dying due to my incompetence."_

A rush of emotions flowed from his master through their training bond: gentle reassurance, firm confidence in Obi Wan's abilities, even filial love. This last one nearly caused him to weep as he realized he was losing the only father he'd ever known.

_"You have never been incompetent. This is the will of the Force."_ Then his Master gathered his strength for another audible remark.

"He _is_ the chosen one," Qui Gon quietly asserted "He _will_ bring balance." The request was once more on his lips, "Train him."

Obi Wan could only manage a nod, since his throat was constricted with grief, but it was vigorous enough to reassure his master of his intention to fulfill that request. Qui Gon seemed satisfied with this. His eyes drifted shut and his body went limp as his spirit rejoined the Force. The padawan clutched the body tighter, as though he could keep the man with him by the strength of his grip alone.

The aura of his master vanished and the training bond shattered abruptly, leaving Obi Wan with prone shape in his arms and a sharp pain in his head. Resting his forehead against that of his master, he rocked gently back and forth trying to stave off the pain, both spiritual and mental.

"There is no death, there is the Force." Obi Wan murmured the last tenet of the Code to himself as he held the form that was once his master. Still, there was pain.

How long he kneeled there, Obi Wan could not tell, but after that indeterminate length of time, the padawan realized he should be attending to the mission. He brushed away tears he had not noticed he'd shed. Orienting himself to this loss and dealing with his emotions would have to wait. He had a duty to attend to, a people to serve and protect.

Now that he probed the Force, he felt the triumphant feelings ringing from the Naboo. It would seem the queen's plan had worked, and they had won back their planet. He hesitated before deciding to leave the body there temporarily. His master was considerably taller than he, and difficult to carry. Obi Wan may need his hands free if there was still a fight to attend.

Walking back to the main hall of the planet, he encountered the ripples of other beings in the Force approaching. A moment's probing confirmed them to be the queen, the real one, with some of the security squad. Perhaps they had come to try to assist in the battle with the Sith, not knowing it was already over.

The group came upon him and stopped. Captain Panaka was first to speak. "The enemy, where is he?"

"Dead," the padawan intoned, because they may not understand what he meant if he said "one with the Force." It caused the young Jedi to shudder, to think of becoming one with the Dark Side itself.

Padme, spoke next, gently, "What's happened to Master Jinn?"

"He, too, is dead."

Those words were more difficult to utter, but he soothed himself with a speculation of the wonder it must be to join the Light.

At the moment he almost wished himself capable of sight. Perhaps he could better grasp the concept of being one with the Light Side, if he could see the entity from which it derived its name.


	11. Part II, Chapter 7

Obi Wan listened to the flames crackle on Qui Gon's funeral pyre. Only hours ago, he had been granted the title of Jedi Knight, bypassing the Trials.

The young man had candidly reported to the Council everything about the recent events, even his brush with the Dark Side, and expected some sort of censure for his behavior. Thus, it stunned him when he learned of the Council's decision.

The events on Naboo, Yoda explained, had reflected all four levels of the Jedi Trails. The duel with the Sith was itself both a Trial of Skill and a Trial of Courage.

The loss of his master served as a Trial of the Flesh.

His victory against his own Dark Side proved to be a Trial of the Spirit.

The knighting ceremony had been quick and simple. As an outward symbol of his promotion to knighthood, Yoda severed his padawan braid. It felt odd not to have it brushing against his neck and shoulder. It was an uncomfortable, naked feeling, but easily covered by drawing up his hood. The uncomfortable, empty feeling from the absence of his own master at such a significant moment in his life was not as easily remedied.

Beside him, Anakin was also in mourning for the deceased Jedi Master. A pungent, heavy grief rolled off in waves from Anakin, and it was all Obi Wan could do to keep his shields up and prevent it from battering his senses. He'd had little enough time to deal with his own emotions. For now he merely buried them, to be accepted and released later under meditation.

Yet, while his tired spirit protested his proximity to this beacon of strong emotion, his rational mind knew that he must train the boy to taper such emotion, a feat he could never accomplish if he distanced himself. It was not Anakin's fault that his raw, untrained Force presence grated painfully on Obi Wan's polished aura.

Perhaps sensing that the Jedi's thoughts were directed toward him, Anakin glanced over at Obi Wan uncertainly. In acknowledgement, the Knight turned his head to face the boy.

"What's going to happen to me now?" the former slave asked timidly, fear simmering under his words. Qui Gon had been the only one to champion the boy's cause. It was logical that he feared what that man's death meant for his own life.

"The Council has given me permission to train you." Obi Wan confided. Permission or no, he would have done so even in defiance of the Council's wishes. Qui Gon had not been able to die in peace, until he had secured a promise as to Anakin's fate. Nothing could prevent Obi Wan from fulfilling that request. "You _will_ be a Jedi, I promise."

He sensed Anakin nod and, with a bit of relief, turn back to observe the pyre once again. Obi Wan began to fell a bit uneasy about his sure words. Could one in good conscious _promise_ the title of Jedi to another being? There were so many factors beyond his control here.

But this boy is supposed to be the Chosen One. Prophecy, and thus the will of the Force, was on his side. In any case, Obi Wan resolved that if that promise should fall, it would not be for negligence on his part.

He would not fail this boy the way he had his master.

Within the impressive Theed palace, Obi Wan entered the room he and Anakin would share for their brief stay on Naboo. The funeral was done, and tomorrow would be a day of festivity, beginning with a parade commemorating the peace between the Gungan and Naboo. Once the celebrations were over, they and the rest of the Jedi would return to Coruscant.

Anakin was glad at the young man's return. He was not at all used to occupying such a large space by himself, and while Obi Wan was not much by way of company, it at least spared him from being alone.

"Obi Wan, sir, what's that razor for?" Anakin asked when he was finally able to identify the item that the other had brought back.

"It is appropriate for you to address me as 'master' now rather than 'sir,'" Obi Wan replied a bit absently, as though he had much on his mind. "The term has nothing to do with ownership," the Jedi added, thinking of the boy's background. "Rather, it just expresses than I am your teacher."

Anakin nodded. "So why did you bring a razor, Master Obi Wan?" he retried. "You just got a hair cut, didn't you?" He added, gesturing toward the missing braid.

"It's for _your_ haircut, Anakin." Obi Wan's replied quietly. "The Jedi will be standing together at the parade. Your place will be by me, so I thought it best to have you looking as a Jedi apprentice should."

Anakin face lit up, overwhelmed by the news. Getting to be a Jedi was incredible enough, but to be standing with all the other Jedi at the parade tomorrow, as one of them! Padme would be so impressed to see him looking like a Jedi. His mother would be so happy if she could see him standing at the head of the celebration, a hero.

Dreams that seemed impossible mere days ago were finally coming true. Genuinely overcome with emotion, Anakin impulsively flung himself forward, arms wrapped tightly around his new master's waist.

Obi Wan was startled by the sudden contact, and he stiffened, unsure of what to do. Qui Gon had almost never hugged him, with the exception of times when one of them had been rescued from almost certain death. In such cases, the enormity of relief felt had warranted such a gesture. This certainly did not apply to the situation here.

After a moment's hesitation, he gently pried the little arms from his waist, feeling rather uncomfortable with his breathing constricted so. To avoid embarrassing the child, he chose not to comment. Instead he used the Force to call a chair over to them, so Anakin could sit while having his hair cut.

Anakin tried not to show his unhappiness when the affectionate gesture was rejected. He didn't understand what was wrong. Obi Wan hadn't cried at the funeral, and Anakin had tried his best to do the same, thinking that perhaps tears were not a Jedi thing.

Maybe Jedi didn't hug either? It made him miss his mother all the more. He wanted to ask about it, but stopped when he saw his master levitating the chair. "Will you teach me that?" he asked, awed.

Obi Wan repressed a sigh at the question. Younglings learned levitation exercises as early as age two. With Skywalker, he was truly starting from scratch. "Yes, I will, or one of the Temple teachers at least. Now is not the time, though."

Anakin nodded again and hopped into the chair, waiting for the buzz of the razor.

Obi Wan adjusted the razor as needed, but hesitated. He was fairly certain he had it on the right setting, but there were no raised markings on which to brush his fingers against and check. A padawan's first haircut was a meaningful occasion, and it wouldn't do to mess it up. Obi Wan held the razor out in front his apprentice. "Tell me, is this set to level 3A?"

Anakin quirked an eyebrow before looking. "The screen _says_ 3A, Master Obi Wan. Do you think it's faulty?" He smiled eagerly, hoping to do something to please the aloof man. "I can take it apart and make sure. Something like this would be easy to figure out, and I can recalibrate the razor settings in minutes!"

"That won't be necessary, Anakin. I just needed you to read the screen for confirmation."

"Why?" The boy crinkled his nose in confusion.

The man's eyebrows furrowed when he realized he had never told Anakin his condition. He would have to know of course, and there was no sense in avoiding the subject. "Because I'm blind." Obi Wan admitted without preamble. He paused here, waiting for the response.

"You…you are?" The young voice turned thoughtful and hesitant. "But… I-I thought blind people can't see."

"Yes, that would be an accurate assessment." Obi Wan stated agreeably, a smile threatening his features, but kept it in check lest the boy think he was being made fun of.

"But, if you're blind, how do you know where everything is?" Anakin pressed. "How could you cut my hair?"

As expected, the first questions were of a practical nature, and answered easily enough. "There are several ways, young one. The Force serves as my eyes. First of all, I can feel the aura of living beings. That makes the location of living things easier to find than nonliving. Secondly, objects displace air. I can feel in the Force where the displacement of air is located and determine what sort of object is there. That is the easiest way for me to locate inanimate objects. Another option is that, the more deeply I focus in the Force, the more I can discern the finer details in texture and shape of both living and non-living things. This Force sense is what allows me to percieve beyond my immediate surroundings, but it becomes tiring if I overexert myself."

He normally did not go into particulars when explaining his abilities, but if Anakin was to learn the ways of the Force, he may as acquaint himself now with what it was capable of doing. "Also, through the years, I have heightened my sense of hearing and smell above what is normal for humans. I can use sound and scent to find things, though I admit scents are more difficult to pinpoint."

This was a lot of information to soak in at one time, but instead of requesting clarification, Anakin moved on. "So, you're going to be my teacher…even though you're blind?" the boy asked.

Had Obi Wan been focusing harder, he would have noticed that Anakin's features were not shaped in skepticism, but in wonder. But, as the case was, he could only judge by the child's tone of voice, which sounded laced with disbelief to one unfamiliar with the boy's mannerisms.

_"He is disappointed."_ Obi Wan thought to himself. _"But it's only natural. Who would want a blind master?"_

The Jedi wouldn't allow the hurt to make him lash out at his padawan. Instead he tried to lighten the situation with humor. "Believe me, if there was another way it wouldn't be so. As things stand, I've promised Qui Gon to make you a Jedi, and someone has to train you." He smiled apologetically. "We're stuck with each other, young one."

"I…I see." Anakin watched as the young Jedi turned on the razor and set to work. Obi Wan seemed to have no difficulty with Anakin's hair, though he did pass his hands through it often to check on the progress. The gentle, callused fingers running through his hair and over his scalp might have felt good, if it wasn't for the fact that the boy was now convinced his own master didn't want him.


	12. Part II, Chapter 8

Today was momentous for the inhabitants of Naboo. Earlier, they celebrated with an exuberant parade their liberation from the Trade Federation and the peace agreement between the Gungans and Naboo. Queen Amidala would surely prove to be one of the greatest in Naboo history. Her bravery and determination saved her people when the Senate had stood by and done nothing. Her humility and empathy had allowed an alliance to be formed between two races that had been hostile for centuries.

Obi Wan considered these things and admitted to himself that perhaps not _all_ politicians were self serving and corrupt.

Of course, if Qui Gon were here, he would have reminded him that absolute statements like that were never accurate. If he had been there to say that, Obi Wan would surely point out that the master's statement was itself an absolute, and thus must also be inaccurate.

But Qui Gon was not here, and instead of being engaged in comfortable banter, Obi Wan found himself silent and feeling awkward amidst the congregation gathered here for the celebratory ball that followed the parade. Here, humans and gungans interacted and engaged in animated conversations about their recent victory. Fine cuisine from both cultures adorned the tables for guests to enjoy at their leisure. Optimistic hopes for the future ran high and gave the event a gleeful atmosphere.

The Jedi were scheduled to leave the planet the next morning. Until then, they joined the Naboo and Gungans in their festivities.

Though Obi Wan was glad for the Naboo, his grief was still too fresh for him to delve wholeheartedly into celebration. He needed the time to be allowed to feel and accept it before he could truly release it. With his emotions not quite as controlled as they should be, he distanced himself from the Jedi Council members lest they become concerned for him.

Anakin, at least, was having a good time, Obi Wan noted. The boy was friendly, and seemed to have no trouble endearing himself to strangers. Earlier, he had spent a great deal of time around Padme, or rather, Queen Amidala. Currently, Anakin was among the other pilots who had gone into the space battle. These men were retelling the tale of his padawan's exploits to a group of avid listeners. Anakin interjected his own comments every now and then, and the others would exclaim over the boy's bravery and skill. One pilot clapped his apprentice's shoulder and loudly affirmed that Anakin would long be remembered as a hero in Naboo.

Obi Wan smiled and shook his head, wondering if they would remember the Jedi, in the decades to come. Would Naboo's history books mention that Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi had taken down the Sith, the being who would have ruined any chance they had for freedom?

Most likely not. To those who are not Jedi, the threat of the Sith was not fully understood, and their duel had been quiet and unseen. The most he could reasonably expect was a footnote in such history books, mentioning that two Jedi had been present to help at the time of Naboo's liberation.

But such things were true anywhere they went. Jedi were often taken for granted, as they were only doing their job. Rare was it that a Jedi received lasting recognition anywhere beyond the Temple's own archives. Yet Obi Wan noted this without bitterness. A Jedi does not seek attention or crave fame, and is content to fade into the background.

Obi Wan would be quite content to fade into the background even now, if the Naboo would only let him. But this was not years into the future, where he had already dimmed from their memory. This was the present and their victory was still on the forefront of their minds. Thus he was forced to carry on small talk with numerous beings that wished to thank him for his bravery.

He found casual communications with strangers difficult. When the governor lauded him as a great warrior, he could only think to quietly point out that war doesn't make one great. Finding that Jedi wisdom dampened the conversation, the other managed to excuse himself, only to have his place taken up by another earnest well-wisher.

Obi Wan finally found some respite by pretending to be taken by artwork in a more obscure area of the ballroom. He noted that there were four large frames, suggesting that the artwork was taller than himself, and as wide as his arm span. Perhaps they were portraits of the four most recent queens. Or they may be landscapes, since the Naboo seemed to be proud of their planet's natural beauty.

He busied himself with thoughts of this strain, ignoring the noise and movement behind him. That is, until the smell of a familiar perfume made him aware of someone immediately behind him.

"Good evening, your majesty." Obi Wan greeted without turning around.

The sound of her soft steps and the swish of her extravagant robes indicated she was now beside him. "You seem to be avoiding people, Jedi Kenobi," she stated lightly, though a touch of concern lay beneath those words.

"Not at all." Obi Wan favored her with a slight smile. "Just admiring Naboo art."

Padme paused, and he could tell she was considering his words. Rather than assume he was incapable of doing such a thing, she asked, "And which of these do you think is best?"

The Jedi's smile broadened just a bit. "I believe it's that one." He pointed to the second from the right.

"And why's that?" Padme inquired with genuine curiosity.

"Ah, you see, it has the nicest frame." Obi Wan evaluated in a serious tone. "The engravings in the wood are quite intricate, and the edges have a wave-like form to them, rather than the usual straight edge. If someone would place such care and attention to the displaying of the piece, the work is probably quite stunning in its own right."

"You've been teasing me. You can't see the paintings at all!" Padme accused with some amusement.

"How am I teasing you, your majesty? You requested to know which piece I _thought_ was best, so I made my guess." Obi Wan replied agreeably.

"Fine." Padme conceded, "But are you so bored you can think of nothing better to do than admire frames?"

"I…" He could think of nothing to say to that, so he merely shrugged. "I'm not the best at festive social gatherings."

"If you'd like, I can introduce you to people."

"Forgive me if it seems rude, but I'd rather not," Obi Wan said quickly. "I wouldn't know what to say, anyway. Master Qui Gon was always the social one." He winced inwardly, wondering why he'd spoken that particular thought aloud.

Padme was silent for a long moment, then placed a hand on Obi Wan's arm. "I'm very sorry for your loss." These words had been addressed to him several times already this evening, but somehow from Padme it seemed different. Sorrow tinged her words and Obi Wan couldn't quite believe that she was merely spouting platitudes.

Somehow the thought of Padme being genuinely distressed made him uncomfortable. "Qui Gon is not lost. He is one with the Force, and so he is with us even now." He spoke these words to reassure her, but found them to be reassuring to himself.

At that particular moment, melodious strains of music swelled in the air. Obi Wan, who had been paying only vague attention to his surroundings, was surprised. "What's happening now?"

"The orchestra has set up. They've just started playing." Padme explained.

For several minutes, the Jedi listened appreciatively to the instruments that were being handled skillfully and joyfully. He had a love for music, and often found it be soothing. "They're very good musicians. Especially the viol player at the end of the string section. You can tell this is an art for him."

Padme smiled brightly to see Obi Wan finally enjoying himself. "Would you care to dance, Knight Kenobi?"

The Jedi's immediate retreat and uplifted eyebrows were comical, as he seemed to forget entirely the proper manner to refuse a dance. "No. No, I'd rather not."

"Come now, you're not _afraid_ of me, are you? I promise not to get angry if you make a mistake." Padme continued playfully.

"I've not danced in a setting like this since I was fifteen." Obi Wan protested, attempting to excuse himself.

"Well then, it's been far too long, hasn't it?" Padme replied easily. She clasped one of Obi Wan's elbows and steered him toward the dance floor, determined that her friend should spend no further time moping in corners.

Obi Wan could not continue protesting without causing a scene, and he did not wish to embarrass the Queen of Naboo. "What is the dance?" He asked resignedly.

"Right now it's the Alderaanian Waltz, but it's no problem if you don't know it. There are quite a few Gungans here dancing however they please. And some of the Naboo pilots and guards are improvising as well."

Obi Wan pretended to look insulted. "Not know the Alderaanian Waltz? A Jedi learns to waltz almost immediately after he learns to walk."

"So then prove it." Padme grinned.

Obi Wan hesitated, then took her right hand in his left. His own right hand settled gingerly on her waist slightly around the back, and he felt her free hand settle onto his right shoulder. The Jedi maintained a reasonable distance between their bodies, mindful of the fact that she was only a friend, and a rather young one at that, despite her maturity.

"Just one question before we start," Obi Wan said seriously.

Padme looked at him with concern. "What is it?"

"Are your shoes very expensive? Because you may consider changing them now while you can."

Padme laughed and hit his shoulder, "Just start us off already."

The young queen had no cause to worry for her shoes. Obi Wan's movements were startlingly graceful. The music seemed to breathe through him and translate into motion. And he was an attentive leader, always coaxing rather than forcing Padme to follow.

Quite a few people had stopped to admire the charming couple as they dance. Obi Wan's litheness and agility, combined with Padme's poise and refinement, made for a elegant, fluid demonstration of an Alderaanin Waltz.

Obi Wan couldn't help but feel quite a bit lighter as he glided along the dance floor with Padme. He wasn't quite sure how long they've been engaged thus before he a tug on Padme's elaborate gown disrupted the rhythm.

Anakin stood beside Padme with a hopeful expression on his face. "When you guys are done, can I dance with you next?"

Padme giggled and Obi Wan sighed. "Padawan, pulling on a lady's gown is not the appropriate way to ask if you may cut in."

Anakin's expression turned sheepish. "I'm sorry, master."

"Oh, that's all right, I…" Padme began but Obi Wan cut her off with an uplifted hand.

"Please, milady, would you allow for a quick lesson? I know you don't mind, but it would be good for him to learn the right way."

Padme smiled reassuringly at Anakin as she answered. "Of course."

Obi Wan resumed his dancing position with the queen, then instructed his padawan, "Now come and stand slightly to our side, where our hands are together."

Anakin did so and waited for further instruction, a grin starting to grow on his face as he realized Obi Wan was going to actually let him interrupt them.

"Now you need to be facing Queen Amidala, since she is the one with whom you wish to dance." When his padawan corrected his position Obi Wan continued. "Normally, you would tap the person whom you wish to replace on the left shoulder, but since you can't reach yet, tap on my left arm."

Anakin did so, and Obi Wan nodded. "Right. You don't need to say anything, just to wait until we part. When we do, you look at the queen, your partner; not at me, the person you're replacing."

Obi Wan stepped away from Padme, and Anakin kept his gaze on the young lady, as instructed. "Offer her your hand."

The boy did so, and Padme accepted it.

"And now, you dance." Obi Wan finished, stepping back even further. "However, you'll have to improvise, since the dance lesson must wait."

Suddenly, it occurred to Padme that the Jedi had found a way out of having to dance. But Anakin was so cheerful at the prospect of dancing with her that she couldn't refuse him.

Obi Wan retreated, but he kept his senses on the pair.

Padme led now, with Anakin eagerly following her movements. Not knowing the dance at all, the boy was awkward, but he proved to be a fast learner. In just a few minutes he had the basics down enough to make the dance flow a bit smoother.

The boy was chatting away, as usual. Obi Wan realized he'd forgotten to mention that when conversing after cutting in, one should chose a topic other than the previous dancing partner.

But as the Jedi caught the gist of the conversation, it was obvious that he needn't have worried. Apparently, when he was with Padme, Obi Wan was the furthest thing from Anakin's mind.


	13. Part III, Chapter 1

Anakin followed his master, about two steps behind and to the side, as Obi Wan had instructed him. The youth had been inside the Temple before, to be tested by the Counsel. This time they were in an entirely different area, and it seemed very easy to get lost in a place so large.

Obi Wan led the way through turns and turbolifts, and Anakin couldn't help but wonder that the man could maneuver through the halls so easily without sight. He kept up with difficulty, his master either not knowing or not caring that his stride was much longer than the Anakin's.

Anakin's pack slipped a bit from his shoulder. He fumbled with the strap and hurried to catch up, only to barely prevent himself from colliding into the man's legs when he stopped suddenly.

At first, he entertained the notion that Obi Wan had stopped to give his apprentice a chance to keep up, but realized the break in his stride was due to another person altogether.

Anakin stared at the being before them. Living near the Mos Eisley spaceport, he had seen and interacted with many non-human species, yet he'd never encountered one like this. He almost asked his master "What is it?" before his sense returned and he wisely chose to keep silence.

"Obi Wan, you're back! I'm so glad you're safe." If the gentle, feminine voice was proper indication, this being was female.

"Bant," Obi Wan's voice faltered. He held out a hand, palm out, and the being pressed her own webbed hand flat against his. To Anakin it seemed like a handshake of sorts, the kind that friends share.

"I heard about Master Jinn." Bant's large silver eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion. Anakin wondered if Obi Wan could tell. "I'm so sorry."

His master nodded but was quick to brush the sentiment aside. "I…I was just bringing Anakin to get settled into our quarters." He removed his hand from its flat position against hers and settled it on Anakin's shoulder.

One silver eye swiveled to the boy, while the other stayed on her friend. "Anakin?" her voice betrayed confusion, but she recovered quickly enough, smiled, and held out a hand for the more common handshake greeting. "Hello. I'm Senior Padawan Bant Eerin. And whose padawan might you be, little one?"

Anakin shook her hand vigorously, pleased to finally be acknowledged in the conversation. He decided he liked Bant. She seemed kind. And once you get over the surprise, her domed head, reddish brown skin and large silver eyes were actually sort of pretty. Not Padme pretty, but nice all the same. He was about to reply to her question when Obi Wan interrupted.

"He's _my_ padawan. We met while on the mission," the young man informed her. "I was knighted after my master…became one with the Force."

Bant again looked confused as she took in this information. She seemed worried for her friend. Anakin wondered that this Jedi could be so emotional when his master was…not. He didn't even seem to care as much as Anakin did that Qui Gon was gone.

Though Bant obviously did not understand all that had happened, she didn't seem inclined to pry further. "Well, I actually came to see if I could help you clean out Master Qui Gon's quarters. It was difficult for me to do after losing Master Tahl. I thought perhaps you could use a friend."

Obi Wan merely nodded in response.

Bant knelt beside the boy and placed a webbed hand on his shoulder "While we're at it, I can help you get settled in. Does that sound okay?"

Anakin grinned at her and nodded. "Thanks!" And he meant it. This stranger, at least, made him feel like maybe someone besides Qui Gon actually wanted him in the Temple. The Jedi Counsel had been clear in their rejection the first time he visited the Coruscant. Obi Wan had been cold and distant from the beginning.

It made Anakin's insides ache for his mom's warm hug, or even Qui Gon's smile and reassuring words. He missed them both intensely. Bant's immediate acceptance gave the boy hope. He would _make_ them like him, even Obi Wan. He had to become a great Jedi, like he promised his mother he would be. Like Qui Gon always believed he could be.

Walking into the Jinn/Kenobi residence was more difficult than Obi Wan had anticipated. He no sooner accessed the door before his master's familiar earth and sandalwood scent greeted him, stirring up memories that he didn't feel capable of reviewing just yet.

The apartment was almost alive with his master's presence. Qui Gon's datapad was right where the elder had left it, on the cushion of the armchair. That particular armchair was one his master usually sank into after the conclusion of a tiring mission.

The thermostat was still set at 73˚F/23˚C, the temperature his master felt most comfortable. Obi Wan found it a bit too warm for his liking, but never mentioned as much to Qui Gon.

The mat in the corner by the window was his master's meditation area. Often, he'd leave the window slightly open while meditating, allowing the thrum of Coruscanti traffic and the cool whisps of air to enter the room.

Bant clasped his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. She had been right. Clearing out his former master's room would be difficult, yet unavoidable since Anakin needed a place to sleep. "Will you be moving into Master Qui Gon's room?" she inquired.

Obi Wan considered for a moment. While he may be expected to occupy the Master quarters, in truth he saw little reason to do so. Both Master and Padawan quarters were of equal size, and he was already accustomed to the layout of his own room. Briefly imagining himself waking up groggily and walking into a wall where his door used to be, he made the decision. "No, Anakin can have that room. Less things to move around that way."

Packing up Master Qui Gon's things took surprisingly little time, in Anakin's opinion. His clothing and boots were put into boxes. His bedding was left on the bed for Anakin's use. He had some books and materials that needed to be returned to the Archives (Bant promised to do that later). There were little of anything else, and the boy was disappointed. He had hoped to get a deeper understanding of the man by seeing his room.

The Mon Calamarian padawan seemed to read his thoughts. "You thought there'd be more, didn't you?" She smiled. "Jedi do not accumulate possessions, Anakin."

"But why not?" the boy wondered aloud.

"It's part of the Jedi Code, young one," Obi Wan took up his mantle of teaching. "A Jedi is disciplined, and part of that discipline is conquering materialism. Too many possessions distract a Jedi from the Force. It can foster greed to obtain more. I'm sure you have seen on Tatooine the repulsive consequences of greed."

Anakin nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he remembered the violence, deception, and dishonesty beings resorted to when they thought they could gain from it.

Bant joined the discussion. "A great Jedi Master once said 'I wear my robe so that I am warm; I carry my lightsaber so that I am safe; and I keep enough credits for my next meal, so that I am not hungry. If the Force wants me to have more, it finds a way of letting me know.'" She then smiled kindly at Anakin and nudged the pack that carried all of the boy's meager possessions. "I don't think you'll have a problem conquering materialism."

Pleased with the encouragement, Anakin began to unpack. With Bant's help this did not take long either, yet by the end his head was bobbing with exhaustion.

"You're worn out from the long trip." Obi Wan said suddenly. "You should go to bed."

"But I'm not sleepy." Anakin protested. He wanted to stay up and talk to Bant more.

"It's unbecoming for a padawan to lie to his master." Obi Wan remarked dryly.

"Well, I guess I'm a little tired." Anakin conceded. Bant quietly exited the room, but Obi Wan waited for the child to get into bed.

The padawan relented, and climbed into the rather large bed. The sheets smelled like Qui Gon, and that caused a pang of grief to settle in his chest. "Would you…tuck me in?" he asked hesitantly.

The Jedi Knight's head tilted to the side. "Tuck…in? Is that a Tatooine expression? I'm not familiar with the meaning."

Anakin shifted restlessly. "Well, it's not hard. You just…pull the blankets up around me, and wish me good night." It felt strange, having to explain something so familiar. "My mother did it every night, she…"

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi Wan interjected. "Please understand. I'm not your mother. I cannot treat you as one." His tone was not harsh. Rather, he was merely stating a fact. "If you have difficulty sleeping, try one of the calming exercises I taught you on the flight here, though you are weary enough that it shouldn't be a problem. Have a good night, young one."

With that rather tepid benediction, the knight strode out the door. Anakin noted with displeasure that he hadn't bothered to turn out the lights as he left. Although, to be fair, that probably had more to do with blindness than discourtesy.

Obi Wan was right about Anakin's exhaustion. Space travel drained him in a way he had not expected. His earlier protests notwithstanding, the child could not muster up the will to get out of bed now. So he lay there and tried to sleep with the light on.

Anakin found his thoughts drifting towards his new master. Why did Obi Wan dislike him so much? And how could he ever get close to such an emotionless person? Then again, that other Jedi, Bant, seemed to be good friends with him.

How did such a mean guy get to have such a nice friend?

What really bothered Anakin was how indifferent Obi Wan seemed to Qui Gon's death. He told Anakin that it was the elder's time to become one with the Force, and that he had to accept it. Obi Wan, apparently, had no trouble pretending that the man never existed.

If he did not care for his former master, how could Anakin ever hope that he'd care for his new apprentice?

These troubled thoughts kept him up until he decided he may as well turn off the lights. Slipping out of bed, the boy stepped quietly toward the light switch, to the left of the bedroom door.

He flicked off the light and would have returned to his bed when a strange sound caught his attention. It was coming from the common room, which was sandwiched between his and Obi Wan's bedrooms. It was indistinct, and somehow did not sound like conversation.

Unable to resist his curiosity, Anakin risked a peek. His master and Bant were seated on the couch, which was no surprise in itself.

No, what Anakin found startling was the way his master's shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, his face buried against her shoulder. His strong hands clung to her tunic sleeves with such desperation, his knuckles turned white. The sounds Anakin heard were barely restrained sobs. Not full wails of grief, but shuddering, stillborn things rising from deep in his chest and dying somewhere in his throat.

Bant was silent through this, allowing the man to anchor himself to her. A webbed hand soothingly rubbed his back in small circles. She offered no spoken comfort, sensing that he needed to release his anguish, and that words would only hinder the process.

She did, however, look up and catch Anakin's eye. The boy froze in surprise, but Bant only smiled and indicated with a tilt of her chin that Anakin ought to return to bed.

The padawan did so and stared up through the darkness.

His master was not nearly as emotionless as he seemed. And if he was mistaken in that, then maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be that hard to like him.


	14. Part III, Chapter 2

As the sobs died away, Obi Wan suddenly felt very embarrassed at having broken down in front of his friend. He pulled away and scrubbed at his eyes self-consciously in an attempt to banish the tears from his face.

"I'm sorry." He laughed at himself depreciatingly. "You'd think a Jedi Knight could handle emotion better than this."

"Oh, Obi Wan," Bant sighed dramatically, "You can be so hard on yourself sometimes. Don't pretend that you haven't been through a lot: losing your master, fighting a Sith, being promoted to knighthood, accepting a padawan learner who may be connected to prophecy, all in the course of a few days."

"Still," Obi Wan insisted, "That is precisely why I can't slip up like this."

"From what you've told me, you haven't been given time to accept your feelings, let alone release them." Bant reminded him. "Even on the flight here, you were giving Anakin a crash course on Jedi conduct and procedures. You haven't _dealt_ with your emotions, Obi Wan, only denied and buried them."

"When did you become so wise?" the Knight smiled.

"That's a lesson every padawan learns." She retorted.

Obi Wan's smile faded at that. His face took on a troubled expression. "What am I doing, taking a padawan learner? I can't _teach_, Bant. I'm still in need of guidance myself."

"Qui Gon believed in you."

"He did, but what if he's wrong? How am I supposed to know what to do? What if I make mistakes?"

"You will make mistakes." Bant asserted. "Everyone makes them. But you are ready. Qui Gon thought so. The Council thinks so. Do you think so little of their judgment?"

There was no protest forthcoming, so she continued. "Trust your instincts. I'm confident you'll do fine."

Obi Wan listened, but was still unable to agree. Though he wouldn't say it aloud, Bant knew no more about raising a padawan than he did himself. Obi Wan resolved that tomorrow he'd seek advice from a more experienced Jedi, after setting Anakin with the proper classes for the day.

"Thank you, Bant, for everything." Obi Wan said sincerely. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his robe, and his fingers brushed a piece of textured paper. His brows knit as he pulled it out.

"What is it?" His friend inquired.

Unfolding the paper, he laid it out on the low table and smoothed it with the palms of his hands. The texture and thickness suggested that it was high quality stationery. He felt slight indentions in the page, indicating some written script, but was incapable of deciphering it.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Here, read it to me."

Bant took the page from his hand, quickly scanning the note. A grin spread on her face. "Obi Wan? Did you happen to loan anyone your robe? Can you think of someone who may have been able to slip a note in the pocket without you noticing?"

A puzzled look crossed his features. "No. I always had my robe with me. Except…" His voice trailed off. In the Theed palace, before the parade, he had allowed one of the handmaidens to take it to be washed.

"Never mind. I don't want to know what it says."

"Really? Because it's rather interesting." Bant teased. She glanced at the opening line. "Cutie Kenobi…"

"Bant!"

"What?"

"I said forget it."

"All right," she conceded with mock regret, handing it back to him and watching him crumple it up. "But she _did_ leave her holocom number."

* * *

Obi Wan was not a morning person. Most days, he was content to sleep until his master could take it no longer, and pounded on his bedroom door insisting he get up before he slept the day away. This was normally at 7:30 am.

But now Obi Wan was the master. Therefore, he was awake and moving about the small kitchen at a time when he would normally be cocooned in his sheets. He needed to register Anakin and get him into the classes appropriate for his skill level. And before that, he would prepare the boy some breakfast.

Obi Wan did not bother to use the Force to feel out his surroundings, not when he was in his own apartment, and certainly not this early in the morning. He knew the layout of their quarters as well as he knew the contours of his lightsaber.

As for finding things in the kitchen, that was resolved when he and Qui Gon agreed that there be a place for everything and everything in its place. Obi Wan was almost compulsive in his neatness, but it was necessary if he hoped to find something easily.

He reached over to the cabinet on his right, where they kept their teas. His hand automatically pulled out the box containing a light, woody mixture before freezing. This was his master's favorite tea. Its aroma and taste were loaded with memories of times spent with Qui Gon.

The tea box was tossed into the trash receptacle. Then, guiltily, it was taken back out.

The man sighed as he opened the package. He would not run from memories.

Anakin, apparently, was every bit against mornings as Obi Wan ever was. It took the young Jedi three attempts before the child conceded to vacate his bed.

"Good morning, padawan," the master greeted wryly as the boy grumbled something incoherently. "Hurry and get ready. You may use whatever you need from the 'fresher until we pick up your own supplies later. Just remember to leave everything exactly as you found it."

"Yes, master." Anakin managed to reply, before stumbling toward the refresher. Obi Wan then set down the plate of sliced fruit and the muja muffins on the table. The tea and creamy hot cereal would be kept heated until the boy was ready.

While he waited, Obi Wan connected a small, rectangular device into the port of a datapad and hooked a receiver over his ear. This assistive device would decipher the message on the screen and the earpiece would read its words aloud.

The Jedi Knight pulled up the application he needed to fill out for Anakin. He listened to the instructions and typed in the proper responses: homeworld, known family, name of Jedi retriever, age when brought to the Temple and more. He had estimated Anakin's skill level on different subjects during the flight back to Coruscant, so he entered that information as well.

Next were physical characteristics. Anakin was a human male. Having already tested his blood on Tatooine, Obi Wan quickly input the blood type and midichlorian count. He could also tell the boy's height and approximate his weight easily enough until they went for the medical exam. Then the knight paused, stumped by the next questions.

Eye color and hair color. Obi Wan tried to remember if anyone had mentioned it aloud. No, he was sure they had not. The obvious resolution was to ask Anakin himself. He had never hesitated to ask Qui Gon, or one of his friends, about something he could not discern on his own.

But Anakin was neither his superior, nor his peer. Somehow it felt… embarrassing.

He was supposed to be teaching the boy, not asking him for help. Anakin was disappointed enough to have a blind master; he did not need Obi Wan leaning on him for support, asking him questions whose answers were obvious to anyone else.

No, he'll just ask Bant about it later.

The refresher door opened, and Anakin exited. Obi Wan could smell that the boy had borrowed his shampoo. "Ready, Anakin?"

"Almost," the boy reentered his room. Obi Wan got up and set the rest of the breakfast on the table. He sipped at his tea, and waited for his apprentice to join him.

When the cereal turned cold, he decided to check on the boy.

"Padawan?" Obi Wan knocked on the door. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you ready yet?" Obi Wan tried.

"Almost."

"You said 'almost' quite some time ago." He reminded. "Can I come in?"

"Okay."

The Jedi accessed the door panel and stepped inside. He stretched out his Force sense to feel out his surroundings. "You're not fully dressed yet, young one."

"I…I was trying." Anakin sighed. "But I can't figure it out."

He drew his brows together. "Figure _what_ out?"

He could sense his padawan's growing embarrassment. "These hanging-down-thingies. I can't figure out the right way to put them on. And I forgot which tunic is the under one, and which one is the over one. And this belt won't attach."

While this seemed very funny, Obi Wan didn't dare laugh and embarrass the boy further. Instead he knelt down and felt for the clothing on the floor, finally picking up one article. "This, Padawan, is the under-tunic. You can tell because it feels softer, and it is not as stiff."

Anakin quickly pulled on both tunics in the proper order and waited.

"Now the 'hanging-down-thingies' are called tabards." Obi Wan informed him, and he couldn't suppress the amused smile that came with that comment. He proceeded to help him learn the proper way to wear the new articles of clothing. "Now, you called this a 'belt,' which is an accurate description, but Jedi generally call it an 'obi' to differentiate it from the leather utility belts we wear on missions."

"Obi?" Anakin repeated. "Like your name?"

The knight smiled again, "Yes, Anakin, like my name."

In minutes, the boy was completely dressed.

"Now, young one, on to breakfast. We'll have to be quick, and we should probably forgo the cereal, it's not very good cold."

Anakin trailed behind him and seated himself at the small round dining table. "I'm sorry Master, I should have asked for your help earlier. I didn't mean to waste food."

"It's no waste. We'll have it tomorrow." Obi Wan dismissed. "But don't be afraid to ask for my help. I _want_ to help you."

Anakin had his mouthful of muffin. "Yah, bu ah fel ehba…"

"Please don't speak with your mouth full, Padawan." Obi Wan interrupted to admonish. "I don't speak 'muffle'. Now swallow and try again."

After a couple of moments, he heard the boy swallow. "Sorry," he apologized again, sheepishly. "I was saying that I felt embarrassed. I didn't want to ask because…I knew that you've been doing this all your life. And probably everyone else knows too. It feels embarrassing to have to ask about something that everyone else is fine with."

"Thank you for being honest." Obi Wan mentioned. "Just know that you need not be ashamed to ask questions. Especially about something you have no other way of knowing. In reality, that sort of embarrassment is the shadow of pride, since it stems from a desire to hide your perceived weaknesses."

"Oh," was Anakin's only reply.

Did the boy really get what he was saying? Maybe he should make his explanations simpler? As Obi Wan pondered how to better phrase his lesson, the irony of it suddenly dawned on him. A master should practice what he teaches.

"Anakin, what color are your hair and eyes?"


	15. Part III, Chapter 3

Mace Windu brought his fingertips together as he considered the young Jedi Knight who had asked to speak with him about Anakin. "You know I do not agree with your decision to train the boy."

Though the Councilor detected a twinge of discomfort in Obi Wan, he was no longer a child and did not fidget. "I am aware, Master, that you sense danger in young Anakin. That is exactly why I seek your guidance in particular for how best to train him: to avoid the danger you sense. Jedi are often reminded that the future is always in motion. I value any advice you can give me on this matter."

Mace allowed a smile at this. For all his alleged distaste for politicians, Obi Wan himself was an effective diplomat, he noted. "Kenobi, have a seat."

The newly promoted knight took a seat on the bench where he had approached the Master. They were in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and Mace had been preparing to meditate when Obi Wan sought him out. He brought his blue-grey eyes level with the council member's and waited.

"Here is my advice to you, young Kenobi. Be mindful of the boy and make sure you root out potential problems before they actually become an issue."

Obi Wan consider this a moment before asking, "And how do I put that advice into practice, Master?"

Mace smiled at this. Sometimes getting a direct, practical answer from a Jedi could be difficult. As a group, the Jedi tend to be rather philosophical. Yoda at this point would have answered with something of a riddle that would have a flexible interpretation and application. But Mace decided to give the young man what he wanted: concrete advice. "Once you have taught Anakin the Code, expect him to adhere to it completely. You must not tolerate misbehavior. It is very important that you be firm with him."

Obi Wan nodded. Then he ventured another question "He's a rather young boy, Master Windu…how do I know if I am being too firm?"

"He may be young, but he has started training late, and is therefore undisciplined," the Council member pointed out. "Skywalker is a special case, but that does not mean you can afford to be indulgant. Do not make excuses for him. Expect from him what you would expect from any padawan. If you ignore his faults, they will only grow."

"Yes, Master Windu, I understand." Obi Wan bowed his head, relieved for some clear direction. "Thank you for your time."

The knight felt a hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture from this particular Jedi. "You are rather young to be training a padawan, Kenobi. I may not like the idea, but I will be here for you when you need help. I'm sure any experienced Master feels the same."

* * *

Obi Wan's sleep was disturbed by troubled ripples in the Force. He groggily reached out to sense its source. There, at the doorway, stood Anakin. With a small groan, he sat up to address the boy. "Yes, padawan?"

Anakin shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. "I can't sleep."

Obi Wan's eyes were still closed at this point, a sign of his own weariness since he usually made it a point to look others in the eye, for politeness sake. "I sense anxiety. What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know, master. I guess…I just miss my mom. And it's hard to sleep in a different place."

The Jedi considered this. "It's a lot different here, isn't it?"

Anakin nodded at first, but then considered that perhaps Obi Wan might not be able to tell. "Yes, sir."

The Jedi sighed. "You will adjust, Padawan. These things take time." Anakin was clearly not comforted by the statement. He tried a different approach. "It takes time to learn to let go of attachment, young one. I know it's difficult for you to be away from your mother. But when you come to really grasp the Jedi Code, you will learn to let go."

If anything, Anakin's distress increased at this statement. Learning to "let go" of his mom was not an appealing notion for him.

The knight ran a hand through his hair, wondering just what he was supposed to do now. He was not experienced in comforting a young child.

"Master?" The boy's voice was shy and hesitant. "Could I…um…Would you mind it much…if I…"

Obi Wan patiently waited out the stammering until Anakin could get out his words.

He shifted from one foot to another. "Is it all right if maybe I slept here with you tonight?"

It was an unexpected request, and Obi Wan hesitated. He remembered as youngling, being frightened by the sounds of a thunderstorm and running to his crèche master, stumbling along until he reached her bedside. After she had woken up and listened to his fears, she had let him crawl up beside her and sleep. It had made him feel…safe.

But he had been quite young at the time, and not yet a padawan. While he and Qui Gon had sometimes needed to share a bed, or a floor, while on missions, he could not even imagine doing so for comfort.

With this in mind, the Jedi Knight shook his head. "What good would that do?" He quipped. "I move too much when I sleep. You wouldn't get a moment's rest."

It was Anakin's turn to sigh. "Okay," he murmured, then began to walk away.

"Wait, Padawan." Obi Wan ordered. The boy paused. "You can't sleep in my bed, but we can practice some breathing exercises together." He patted a spot on the comforter, indicating Anakin should take a seat. "It should relax you enough to sleep better."

He could almost feel Anakin's exasperation at yet another breathing exercise, but at least the boy complied. While practicing different modes of respiration may not have been Anakin's idea of a therapeutic sleep aid, it was as much as Obi Wan felt he could offer without being unduly indulgent.

* * *

Obi Wan spent much of the day speaking to the various Temple teachers in order to get an idea of what level of skill most nine-year-old trainees were expected to exhibit. While he had already gone through the training himself, he was too far removed from that stage in his life to remember such details.

Overall, it had been a fruitful endeavor. Though Anakin was not yet ready to join his fellow nine-year olds in class, the knight at least knew how to work with his apprentice to get him there.

Speaking of his apprentice, Obi Wan could sense his radiant presence in the Force nearby. There was another presence with him that felt too controlled and well trained to be that of a padawan.

Anakin was supposed to be having a study session in the Temple Archives with the six year old trainees. Concerned, he strode over to the two beings.

He could hear his padawan's steps against the cool tile of the hallway, sounding hurried, as though he was attempting to keep up with someone who's stride was considerably longer than his own. The other Jedi's steps were too silent to be heard without more concentration, but the rustling of his or her robes was audible enough. The presence was familiar, but somehow at the moment he could not quite…

"Knight Kenobi."

Obi Wan nearly cringed at the sharp tone and inflection, and the sudden realization of the mystery Jedi's identity. "Madam Nu," he returned the greeting with more warmth than hers had contained.

Madam Jocasta Nu was the Jedi librarian in charge of the archives. Obi Wan wondered how old he would be before he stopped feeling like a child in her imposing presence. Not even Mace had this effect on him. Though she was always polite and never raised her voice in anger, as true to Code as any other Jedi, she had an uncanny ability to make him feel as though he ought to be apologizing for some wrongdoing.

"This boy _claims_ to be your padawan." She began, nudging Anakin forward and knowing Obi Wan was able to sense him through the Force to identify him. "Is this true?"

"Yes, ma'am, Anakin Skywalker is indeed my apprentice."

She sniffed at this and her voice took on a lecturing tone. "You had best teach your apprentice to behave properly in the Temple. He created quite a disturbance in the archives this afternoon. He…"

"But it wasn't my fault!" Anakin protested before she could get another word in.

"Padawan, do not interrupt when a master is speaking." Obi Wan corrected sternly, feeling embarrassed by his lack of respect. To Madam Nu, he said "Go on, please."

"This afternoon, Padawan Skywalker invaded the _girls' refresher_," She charged. "Then, after causing a rukus, came running out in a reckless manner, practically knocking me over."

"Oh..." was all Obi Wan managed to respond.

"But I didn't know it was the girls' 'fresher!" Anakin burst out, unable to restrain from defending himself. "It was an accident. And I didn't mean to run you over, I just had to get out of there 'cause those yucky girls wouldn't stop screaming and throwing things at me.

Obi Wan then realized that the faint aroma of a feminine scented cleanser was not coming from the female Jedi, but from Anakin's person. He must have gotten hit with a wet bar of soap from the girl's room. Or perhaps a few wet bars of soap.

Considering that Anakin was not familiar with the archives layout, the boy's mistaken seemed quite understandable. Yet somehow, Jocasta seemed to consider Anakin's offense more serious than Obi Wan perceived it to be.

The Jedi Knight reached out to place a hand on his student's shoulder and turned him to face the librarian. "Apologize for running into her, Anakin."

The small shoulder muscles under Obi Wan's hand tensed in resistance, but the boy did as he was told. "I'm sorry, Madame Nu."

"You're forgiven, Padawan Skywalker," she responded formally. "Now Knight Kenobi, I hope you teach your apprentice to behave as a _Jedi_ before more disruptions occur. If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my post."

With a swift turn that rustled her robes, she took her leave.

"Crabby old bat," Anakin muttered.

"Padawan," Obi Wan chided in his sternest tone. "You will not call your fellow Jedi by such names."

"But why'd she have to be so mean? I didn't even do anything wrong."

For a moment, the Knight struggled for what actual wrongdoing could be laid to Anakin's charge. To contradict Madam Nu was to undermine her authority. "You…shouldn't run in Archives. It's against the rules."

"I wouldn't have run if the stupid girls hadn't overreacted. It's not like I walked in there on _purpose_." The boy's tone had gone from defensive to merely dejected.

The young knight was suddenly reminded of the episode on board the Naboo cruiser, when he'd walked in on the handmaidens in the ladies' refresher. The urge to tell that story to Anakin, to laugh and relate instead of scold and teach, was tempting. But Master Windu had warned him of the need to be firm. To think that he would know better than a Council member was preposterous.

"Anakin, I _know_ there are signs on the refreshers, and you are quite capable of reading them. A Jedi should always be aware of his environment. Remember that."

A sigh escaped the child's lips. "Yes, master."

* * *

I would like to thank **Anakin T Skywalker**, whose one-shot What's in a Name?, had inspired me to have Anakin walking into the girl's refresher and running out. I asked for his/her permission to use that idea, since I thought it made a nice parallel with Obi Wan's experience on the Naboo cruiser.  
Btw, if you haven't read What's in a Name? I suggest you check it out. It won't take long to read, and it is quite clever and funny.


	16. Part III, Chapter 4

The sound of flowing streams murmured in his ear, while the scents in the air told him which flowers were in bloom this time of year. The grass on which he sat felt soft and springy, and quite pleasant under his palms. Just ten minutes earlier, he had considered removing his feet from the confines of his heavy boots and socks and feeling that grass beneath his toes.

But he'd decided against it in the end. Obi Wan had brought Anakin here for a purpose, and so casual a gesture was not conducive to seriousness of their task.

Anakin had been in the Temple for four weeks now, and instead of growing closer, the two of them had drifted further apart. The young Jedi was a bit frustrated by their inability to connect, and failure to produce even the most elementary type of Master-Padawan training bond.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains seemed the ideal place to spend time in cooperative meditation and hopefully establish some sort of connection. It would help Obi Wan to clear his mind of tension. So long as he failed to establish a training bond with the boy, he was failing in his promise to train him.

"All right, Anakin. For this exercise, I need you to enter into a meditative state. Once you've connected yourself well enough with the Force, I will try to establish that connection I told you about earlier. You will feel a light probing into your mind, but don't fight against it. I wouldn't hurt you." Obi Wan paused, reaching out with the Force to get a sense of what the boy's expression conveyed.

Anakin's brows were knit. That could indicate confusion. "Do you understand, Padawan?"

"Yes." The tone he used to reply told Obi Wan that the expression was not one of confusion, but one of displeasure. Anakin disliked meditation.

He chose not to comment, instead leading the child into the meditation exercise. But Anakin was easily distracted. Every time the Jedi thought they were getting somewhere, the boy would shift his body restlessly, or pay attention to some new person who entered the area, or sometimes even just sigh in discontent.

"Padawan, for Force' sake _stop fidgeting_." Obi Wan chided, finally feeling frustrated himself.

"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin responded. "I'll try. But it's so boring. When do I get to practice with a lightsaber?"

"Meditation is a necessary part of a Jedi's life," he reminded. "We are not warriors and adventurers. We are students of the Force. A Jedi seeks knowledge, serenity, and harmony with the Force. Until you begin to grasp these concepts I would not have you handling a weapon. Now let's start over."

It took a solid twenty-five minutes of coaxing and guiding before Anakin achieved the meditative state necessary for Obi Wan to attempt to encourage a bond. Gently, he used the Force to probe into the boy's mind and…

Anakin flinched and the whole process was ruined.

"Padawan!" the knight all but growled. "I _told _you what I was going to do. It shouldn't have caught you by surprise."

"I'm sorry." Anakin muttered.

"Were you even listening to me? This would go much easier if you _paid attention._"

"Yes, Master."

A soft rustling in the grass to the right announced that someone was drawing closer to them. "Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker," a female voice greeted.

Obi Wan recognized it as belonging to Master Adi Gallia. As he was already seated on the ground next to Anakin, and thus couldn't bow, he merely inclined his head and returned the greeting.

"May I speak to you in private for a moment, Knight Kenobi?"

"Of course," he replied, a bit surprised. Pushing off from his kneeling position, he only barely kept himself from stumbling as an intense tingling overtook his legs, the result of having remained in one position so long. Only then did it occur to him that his padawan would probably not take to sitting still for extended periods very well yet.

"Anakin, you must be restless. You can practice some katas until we're done. Don't forget to stretch before you begin."

"Yes, sir," the boy responded a bit more cheerfully. He hastened to comply with the request, stretching both his legs out in front of him and leaning forward to touch one foot and then the other.

Adi took him aside. Obi Wan highly respected this Jedi Master, and had been on numerous missions with her and her former padawan, Siri. "Yes, Master Gallia?"

"Obi Wan, I couldn't help but overhear your interaction with your apprentice. I understand that you've never had to train another person before, so perhaps you would be open to advice?"

"Of course," the younger knight confirmed.

Adi nodded, then got straight to the point. "You're being too hard on him."

"I…" His brow crinkled in confusion. "I am?"

"Well, you're expecting from him what you'd expect from any other padawan. But you must remember that he's _not_ any other padawan. You need to be more understanding as he adjusts to the changes of a Jedi's life."

That made sense, Obi Wan considered, but it also seemed to contradict the advice Mace Windu had given him. To say as much would be rude, however, by openly challenging Adi to pit her wisdom against Mace's. Instead he merely nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"Try to be more patient with him. Try to _understand_ why he feels the way he does. His background _is_ different, and pretending it isn't won't make the differences go away. In some cases, you may need to be the flexible one, and adjust to his needs."

"Thank you, Master Gallia. I will certainly take your words to heart," Obi Wan responded. He _had_ been trying Master Windu's method for a month, and it seemed only to isolate the boy. Perhaps a different approach was indeed in order.

"One more thing, Knight Kenobi," the female jedi added. "The Room of a Thousand Fountains is a public area. You shouldn't rebuke your padawan in public, anymore than a padawan should disagree with his master in front of others."

"…I shouldn't?" It suddenly occurred to the young knight that, while Qui Gon had been liberal in his correction, Obi Wan could not recall him ever doing so in public. Somehow, that fact had escaped his notice.

There was amusement in Adi's tone. "What do think the Code means when it instructs masters to 'Honor your padawan'?"

Obi Wan blushed slightly. "I guess I'm not sure, Master Gallia…I suppose a master should appreciate their padawan…and…"

She spared him by asking a question to which she knew he could answer. "What does it mean to 'Honor your master'?"

As expected, he looked up and responded immediately. "A padawan is to show respect to his master. He should not disagree with his master openly before others, but instead wait until they are in private to discuss such matters. Disagreements should never escalate into arguments. And…"

"That's good, Obi Wan." Adi indulged in a private smile, knowing how seriously the young man before her had taken his responsibilities as a padawan. Qui Gon was his lifeline in a visually oriented society as he grew up, and thus he did everything he could to please the man. Qui Gon had called that Obi Wan's greatest flaw. "The Code wouldn't expect such devotion from a padawan and ask nothing from the master in return. 'Honor your padawan': A master is to treat his padawan with respect. He should never reprimand his padawan in public, nor punish him for merely disagreeing with him. Instead, a master should praise his padawan, especially in the presence of others, in order to build confidence and strengthen the bond between them."

The young knight murmured to himself quietly for a moment, and Adi knew he was working on memorizing that newly introduced portion of the Code. It seemed a shame that Obi Wan should have been a master for month before anyone thought to tell him about what a master's relationship to his padawan entailed.

"Thank you for the lesson, Master Gallia." Obi Wan bowed. "I won't forget it."


	17. Part III, Chapter 5

Anakin poked his head through the doorway of his quarters and realized with a sigh that Obi Wan was not in yet. This would save him a whole lot of explaining.

The boy shuffled in carefully, trying not to drop his armload of droid parts. He also had some of the larger, heavier parts trailing in the air behind him.

Two weeks ago, he had learned to lift a single small object with the Force. Once he understood the concept, it was easy enough to practice on his own with a larger object. Eventually, multiple objects were added as well. Anakin had yet to show his teacher how much he'd learned on his own practice time, but when he did, he hoped she'd be impressed by his incredible skill.

The floating parts trembled in the air, and fell to the ground with a loud, metallic crash.

Okay, so it wasn't perfect yet.

Since he was already inside the apartment, he brought all the pieces one armload at a time into his room. Anakin really missed his old hobby, and he had been elated to find a section of the Temple devoted to droid repair and maintenance. It hadn't been too difficult to convince the workers there to let him take a few projects home.

He anticipated that it would be much more difficult to convince his master, but maybe he won't notice. And what he doesn't notice can't hurt him, right?

No sooner had he finished setting down the last of the equipment in his room when he heard the front door activate. His master was back.

"Hi, Master!" Anakin hurried out into the common room.

"Hello." Obi Wan answered uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

"Huh? Well, of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be all right? Everything is all…all right." the nine year old answered quickly. "Are _you_ all right?"

His master smiled as though something was very funny. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry that I'm later than usual," he paused. "Did something happen that I should know about?"

"Did you eat yet, Master?"

"No…"

"Then I'll go set the table!" Anakin scurried away. Once in the kitchen, he sighed. So far, so good. His master probably doesn't suspect a thing.

He got two plates from the cabinets and placed them on the table. His master's voice floated in from the common room. "You know, Padawan, there's an odd metallic scent in-aaahh!"

A crash, thud, and strangled cry followed this unfinished sentence and the boy raced back to find his master sprawled on the ground beside the coffee table, his hands pressed against the side of his face and his expression tight with pain. Nearby lay a droid chest plate that Anakin had somehow missed while picking up the pieces he had dropped. It seemed to have slid partially under the couch.

"Master! Are you okay?"

Slowly, the Jedi released his hands and gingerly pressed his fingertips against the right side of his face just below the temple. "I slipped on…something." His hand swept out at the floor, searching for the offending object. "I hit the coffee table, but I should be fine. I'm not bleeding." Finally his fingers brushed up on the piece of metal. "What is this, anyway?"

Anakin felt awful as he looked at the red mark on his master's face which he knew would develop into a bruise. "It's a droid part. A panel that goes to the chest."

"And what is it doing on the floor of the apartment?"

"Um…I dropped it?"

"Ah." Obi Wan released a sigh. "Let's discuss this over dinner, shall we?"

Obi Wan crossed his arms. "You shouldn't have brought the parts here without asking me first."

Anakin sighed softly. "I know."

"And you should not have tried to keep it a secret from me. It was dishonest."

Anakin lowered his head, much more regretful for this action. He never intended for Obi Wan to get hurt. "I'm sorry."

"And incidentally, wasn't one of the first things you learned upon arrival, that a Jedi limits his possessions?"

Anakin strained his memory for Bant's words that first day. "Um…yeah… Something about having a…cloak to keep you warm? And…a…lightsaber to keep you safe." He nodded at this point, certain of this phrase and hoping that Obi Wan may suddenly notice that Anakin ought to have a lightsaber. "Then there was something about food. And if the Force wants you to have more, it will let you know."

"So you do hear what we tell you." Obi Wan replied wryly. "The trick is getting you to listen."

Anakin frowned and waited for his master to order him to bring the parts back.

After a lengthy pause, his master dropped the verdict. "Padawan, when you are finished with a project, I expect you to turn the completed droid over to the repair and maintenance sector for it to be restored to service. There will be no private droids in your possession, understand?"

The youth opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. Did he just hear him right?

"So…I can keep the parts in my room? And work on them?" He ventured cautiously, as though fearful of the man changing his mind.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your studies, I can be flexible with you on this," Obi Wan confirmed.

"Yes!" Anakin whooped. "That's sooo wizard!"

"Ah, right…wizard." His master smiled. "Just make sure you keep the parts _off _the common room floor. And watch that this hobby of yours doesn't become excessive, or you will lose the privilege of keeping those parts."

"Okay!" Anakin agreed happily. That shouldn't be too much of a problem. After all, "excessive" was a relative term. It's kind of like when you're mom asks you to come in when it's dark. You've got some room for discussion there, if the suns weren't _completely_ set, or if the sky wasn't _totally _blackish blue.

Anakin figured there had to be some advantages in having a master who is blind. He didn't have to worry about brushing his hair _every_ morning, unless Obi Wan was really focusing in the Force, which he tends not to do if it was early in the morning.

He also didn't need to make his bed, the way his mom always forced him to do. In fact, he was pretty sure Obi Wan didn't usually make his own bed either. Though in almost every other area, Anakin had to be completely organized. The toothpaste _must_ be in the same spot all the time, and everything in the refrigerator had its own section.

Obi Wan didn't like it so much when he poured juice in his cereal instead of milk that time when Anakin accidently switched the cartons. And it really _was_ an accident!

And now, maybe with his master being blind, he wouldn't notice that Anakin's left eye was slightly swollen and sporting a black and blue.

"How was your day, Padawan?"

"It was fine." Anakin responded with a twinge of guilt knowing it was a lie.

The bad thing about having a blind Jedi for a master was that he was very quick to pick up on things that can't be seen, like emotions.

"What's the matter?" There was concern in his Obi Wan's voice.

Two choices here: continue to pretend nothing's wrong, and probably get caught; or fess up and hope for the best.

"Master, you know, in class we talked about how a Jedi ought to show mercy whenever possible…"

"What did you do this time, Anakin?" his master sighed.

"Well," he ground the toe of his boot into the floor as he searched for the best way to phrase what he had to say. "I sort of got caught up in an argument with another boy at lunch today."

"Really?" Obi Wan strode forward and took a seat in the armchair, waving a hand to motion that Anakin should sit at the couch. "Tell me about it."

Taking his time, Anakin selected his place on the couch and settled in before speaking. "Well, there was this boy, Dorrel, who's in my age group. And he was making fun of me because I take a Force training class with the six year olds."

"You do realize that there is no reason to be ashamed of that," his master commented. 'It's impressive that you've been here for only six weeks, and yet you are on level with the younglings who have been in training for as long as four years."

"Well, he kept calling me a baby, and when I accidentally spilled my drink, he said I should have used a sippy cup." Anakin's voice shook just at the memory.

"And what did you do?"

"Me? I, uh, I kinda yelled back at him. And he punched me."

"He _punched_ you?"

"Yeah."

"Why did he do that? What did you say?"

"Um…I just said that I wasn't a baby and that he needed to shut up. And, well, I might have accidentally punched him first." Anakin finished in a rush.

"You attacked him first?" Obi Wan's voice was sounding more and more displeased.

"I didn't mean to! It's not my fault. He just made me so angry…"

"Anakin," Obi Wan rubbed at his forehead wearily before continuing. "You are both at fault here. I will speak to the other boy's crèche master later. But right now _you_ are the one with whom I need to concern myself. You gave into your anger."

"He shouldn't have called me a baby!" Anakin protested.

"No, he should not have." Obi Wan assented. "But he did. And the fact remains that you resorted violence. People will not always be nice to you, Padawan; I can guarantee you that. The only person's actions you can control are your own."

"I tried, Master. I really did. He just made me so angry."

"Anger is the path to the Dark Side, young one. We will need to work harder on controlling and releasing it, won't we?"

"I guess so." Anakin mumbled, dejected.

Obi Wan faltered at this point, unsure of what action would be appropriate. Adi Gallia had counseled him to try to be more understanding, to be flexible, to adjust to his padawan's needs.

He understood that Anakin had been angered, and that was linked to the fact that he was embarrassed by his being in a six-year-olds' class. Obi Wan felt inclined to dismiss that sentiment as pride, but perhaps he should be trying to be more sensitive to the boy's feelings in this.

Finally he spoke. "We will have an extra hour of meditation every night for at least a week," he decided. Obi Wan hesitated before the next statement, hoping he was doing the right thing. "And I'll pull you out of the sixth year class. You can have private tutoring for now, until you've caught up to your own age group."

Anakin's spirits rose significantly with this announcement. "_Really?_ Thank you, Master. I promise I'll do better! I won't get into a fight again."

"Good." Obi Wan nodded as he stood and walked toward the kitchen. "Now let's get some ice for that bruise."

Anakin's eyes widened for a second before he followed, blushing slightly. Sometimes it seemed like his master wasn't very blind at all.


	18. Part III, Chapter 6

As a youth, Obi Wan sometimes wondered why beings around him gave different descriptions for his skin color. Granted, he understood that human skin tone varied from person to person, at least that's what he'd been told.

But that didn't explain why some beings described his skin as "white," others "light," and still others "fair." A few called him "pale," though after extended periods in the sun it actually did change to "tan." If the sun exposure was overdone or too intense, it was undoubtedly "red." And red was a painful color.

However, when speaking of Master Yoda, there was never any such confusion. Without variance, Obi Wan heard Master Yoda described as "green."

That sounded pleasant, actually. According to Qui Gon, green was the color of the grass in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was also the color of most leaves. Many of the healthiest vegetables were green. Thus, when Obi Wan considered the color green, he associated it with life. That seemed an appropriate color for Master Yoda, whose presence in the Force was bursting with life and energy.

"Young Skywalker, away from the Temple, he is?"

"On an outing of sorts, Master Yoda." Obi Wan confirmed. "Chancellor Palpatine offered to take him on a tour of the Senate building."

The two currently occupied a meditation chamber that the ancient Jedi Master favored for private meditation or conversation. Obi Wan could feel the calm strength of the Force washing over the area, his perception of it enhanced by his proximity with the venerable Council Member.

Yoda had called the young knight to inquire after his progress with Anakin's training. The atmosphere was not one of a formal report, but of a conversation between mentor and student. Yoda had been the most instrumental of Obi Wan's earliest instructors, guiding him in the development of his fledgling Force Sight.

"On a tour, the Supreme Chancellor _himself_ takes the boy?" Yoda's voice held a touch of surprise. "An interest in your padawan, it seems he has taken"

Obi Wan let out a wry laugh. "He told Anakin as much, back on Naboo." He hesitated, then added. "I'm not too thrilled, though. I have a bad feeling about it."

"If troubled you felt, send Anakin with him, why did you?" There neither accusation nor disapproval in Yoda's voice, only curiosity.

"The invitation had been given, Master, and it would be an educational experience for him, something with which to supplement his lessons on politics." Obi Wan shrugged. "Besides that, Anakin was so excited by the prospect, I couldn't tell him no. At least, not without a reason more substantial than my own unease."

Yoda harrumphed at this. "So little, think you, of your own instincts?"

"Are you suggesting that I should have refused?"

"Suggesting only, I am, that overrule a Master's judgment, his Padawan's desires should not."

"I was trying to be flexible, Master." Obi Wan sighed. "Master Gallia suggested that I could stand to be less rigid with him."

"Hm. An unyielding tree, topple it will, when strong winds come." Yoda conceded. "However, a Jedi, you must train Skywalker to become." The tapping of the elder's gimmerstick punctuated his words. "With me, come, Knight Kenobi."

Obi Wan stood and followed as the elder Jedi led him to the garden balcony. Leafy plants and small flowering trees grew in potted soil. Yoda had him stand before one slender tree sapling, its trunk small enough for Obi Wan to encircle easily with thumb and forefinger.

Yoda was obviously waiting for the other to speak, so he cleared his throat. "It's…a dewblossom sapling."

The elder master waited.

"Less than a year old…" Obi Wan continued, wondering what he was supposed to observe. "It's been secured to a wooden pole with twine…"

"Why?" Yoda asked immediately.

Obi Wan frowned. He wasn't a farmer, thank the Force, so how was he supposed to know? "For…support?" He guessed.

"For support, yes." Yoda confirmed. "Crooked and bent, this tree began to grow. Unstable. Constrained, it needed to be, while flexible it still was. Tied to the pole, it is, to guide it to grow straight." The aged master brushed his fingers against the growing plant. "Restricted, this sapling may feel, no? But necessary for proper growth, such restraints are."

The elder Jedi's voice took on a thoughtful tone. "When more grown, the sapling becomes, removed, this pole will be. And yet, straight, the young tree will remain, as grow it continues."

Obi Wan smiled as the significance of the illustration registered. "I see." A pause. "So you agree with Master Windu's approach?"

Yoda did not respond immediately. The younger Jedi could almost feel the query in the other's mind, so he elaborated. "Master Windu told me that it's important to be firm with him. That I can't afford to make excuses for him because ignoring his faults will only make them grow. He said that while Anakin is special case, I should expect from him what I would from any other padawan.

"Right, Master Windu is."

Obi Wan frowned. "But…I don't mean to be disrespectful…but Master Gallia advised me to do just the opposite. That I _shouldn't_ expect from him what I'd expect from any other padawan. She told me to be patient, to try to understand his feelings, and to adjust to his needs. She warned me against being too hard on him."

There was a lively sort of amusement in Master Yoda's aura as he answered "Right, Master Gallia is as well."

"They can't _both_ be right!" Obi Wan protested. "Not when their advice is contradictory."

"Contradictory, you say?" Yoda tapped the young Jedi's shin with the gimmerstick. Obi Wan grimaced at the elder's non-visual method of emphasizing a point. At least it compensated for the facial cues his former student might miss. "Not contradictory, Obi Wan. _Complimentary_. Expect, did you, one easy answer? Follow the will of the Force, you must. Guide you, it will, to do what is right."

When he said it like _that_, it seemed rather obvious, didn't it? Obi Wan nodded. "I understand."

"No, you do not. Not yet." Master Yoda challenged, "But you will. Truly begins, a Jedi Knight's education does, when a master he becomes. Everything important about being a master, from your student you will learn."

Cryptic, as most of Yoda's statements were; but who was he to criticize the wisdom of centuries?

"Teaching one another may prove difficult, Master, when we can't even create a proper Master-Padawan bond." This was the failing that troubled him most.

"Late, his training began. Late, his bond develops." It seemed that Yoda didn't find this troubling in the least.

"But we don't connect at all. Not to say that we don't get along," Obi Wan added quickly, "We do. But there is always distance. I'm not sure what to do about that."

"Open yourself to Anakin, do you?" Yoda asked.

The question caught him by surprise. "Well…somewhat. Master Qui Gon was never really all that open about himself, so I've avoided..."

"Qui Gon, you say?" Again, he could sense the amusement in his mentor's tone and aura. "About you and Anakin, I ask, and always another you bring up. Master Windu, Master Gallia, Master Jinn." A gimmerstick prodded his knee. "Opinions, you have not? Speak to you, the Force does not?"

"It does, Master."

"Others examples, guide you they can, but yourself you still must be," Yoda advised. "Master Jinn, you are not. Obi Wan, your padawan is not. To the Force you must listen, as well as your instinct."

Yoda sighed, and continued with a tone that resembled fondness. "When learn this you do, Master Kenobi you will be."


	19. Part III, Chapter 7

Obi Wan woke suddenly, though sleep still clung to his mind and made his thoughts muddled. Why was he awake?

There was a disturbance in the Force. And it was coming from Anakin. A gentle Force probe confirmed that the boy was in bed, crying. This, unfortunately, was not an uncommon occurrence, and Obi Wan felt at a loss for what to do.

The boy missed his mother, and apparently felt it most acutely at night when he tried to sleep.

The Jedi had been giving the boy his privacy. Obi Wan rarely cried anymore, but when he did, he vastly preferred to be alone. He assumed that Anakin would prefer that as well.

But what if he was wrong? What if he was supposed to _do _something?

Shaking his head to clear the tendrils of sleepiness, he reached into the Force again, turning more of his focus on Anakin. Generally, Obi Wan maintained a mental distance from the emotionally-charged aura of his apprentice. It was a reflexive response to his padawan's powerful, untrained Force presence, a response that Obi Wan could put aside only with conscious effort.

Raw grief overwhelmed his senses immediately, and he nearly withdrew. There were no mental shields blocking the padawan's emotions, since he had not learned to construct them yet.

Innately empathetic, Obi Wan learned to develop strong mental shielding at a young age because it had quite simply hurt too much to be so exposed to the feelings of other beings. Ironically, this often gave him the appearance of being cold and unfeeling himself.

This time, he allowed his apprentice's sorrow to wash over him in tides. He let himself experience it, never absorbing the distress as his own, but channeling it through him, in and then out again, into the Force where it belonged.

The Force called him to the boy. Obi Wan listened.

Anakin curled tighter around his pillow, stifling his sobs to the best of his ability.

He just couldn't help it. He couldn't help wondering what mom could be doing right now. Did she have enough to eat, or was she going to bed hungry? Did Watto treat her well today, or was she punished for not getting work done in time? What if their stove broke again, and he wasn't there to fix it?

What if she was as lonely as he felt?

Another sob racked his body, and he kept it muffled in a pillow that was fuller and softer than any his mom had ever been able to buy.

The sound of his master's bedroom door sliding open caused an involuntary gasp to escape his lips before he wiped his eyes and buried his face deeper into his pillow. He didn't want Obi Wan to be disappointed in him by catching him crying.

Maybe he hadn't heard. Maybe he's just getting a glass of water, or going to the 'fresher.

A soft knock on the door quashed his false hopes. "Padawan? May I come in?"

Anakin considered telling him no, but somehow, he really, _really_ did not feel like being by himself anymore. Even if all Obi Wan wanted to do was practice breathing _again_, at least he wouldn't be alone.

"Padawan?"

"Yeah, you can come in," Anakin called, trying his best to _not_ sound like he'd been crying. "Watch out, though. My floor is messy," he added as an afterthought.

Obi Wan entered, easily stepping around or over the droid parts, books, and clothing on his floor. He approached the sleep coach and lingered, hesitating, before finally sitting down. "Do you want to…talk?" His master's voice was stiff and hesitant.

"Talk about what?" Anakin asked uncertainly.

"You've been crying."

"I'm sorry, Master," the boy quietly replied. "I'll try not to do it again."

Obi Wan blinked twice and frowned. "I- Padawan, that's not what I was trying to tell you. It's not wrong to cry occasionally."

"Oh." Anakin had been pretty sure there was some rule against it. "Then…I'll do it quieter next time?" Was Obi Wan upset about being woken up? After all, his posture was pretty tense.

The knight's unseeing eyes widened momentarily, and then an almost-smile tinged his lips. "You're not in trouble, young one. Discipline is not a master's only function, you know." He brushed his hand against Anakin's cheek, wiping away a moist tear-track.

The boy reflexively leaned into the contact, but was not surprised when the hand pulled away. He did not expect, however, for the hand to settle back down on top of his head, ruffling his hair in what could pass for affection, if the man's face hadn't looked so utterly solemn.

"Your sorrow is deep," his master acknowledged, "but the Force is deeper, little one. Let me help you?"

Anakin blinked back a fresh wave of tears. "O-okay."

"Close your eyes and feel the Force around you, Anakin. It should flow and surge, like a current."

Anakin tried to shove away his emotion to access the light side as he did in his tutoring sessions in Force receptivity. Focusing was difficult, however and at the moment he felt no more than a mere trickle.

Obi Wan could sense the boy's struggle, as well as the cause of it. "Grief and…" A questioning probe in the Force revealed the other emotion, "…fear…are hindering your ability to connect, young one. They are obstacles blocking the Force's currents. Flow _around_ them, do not crash against them. Don't fight what you feel; accept it and let it go."

Anakin felt his master's hands settle on either shoulder. Obi Wan's presence and contact somehow helped him gather more of the Force around him, as though the man was helping him and strengthening his perceptions. Which was probably exactly what he was doing.

"Now," Obi Wan instructed. "Put a name to your fear and sadness, young one. You can't release what you have not identified."

"I'm not afraid," Anakin protested. "I'm just sad because I miss my mom, that's all."

A light squeeze on his shoulders caused him to look up at his master's face. "Don't be ashamed of your fear. I want to teach you how to deal with it. I know you miss your mother, but what is it that you're _afraid_ of? Do you fear losing her?"

"Kinda."

Deep as they were, together in the Force, Obi Wan realized with some surprise that this was not entirely accurate. There was something else bothering the boy. He waited for Anakin to express what was on his heart.

"I...I guess I'm worried about her," the boy admitted. "Now that I left, there's no one to help her. What if she _needs_ me? Who's going to take care of her if she gets sick? What if...what if..." the boy's throat constricted, unable to verbalize his worries.

Obi Wan had been around the galaxy enough to be able to guess at the many hazards faced by a lone slave woman on a planet like Tatooine.

"Padawan, do you believe that the Force would have you here at the Jedi Temple? Is this where you want to be?"

"Of course," Anakin exclaimed hurriedly, not wanting to give Obi Wan a reason to make him leave.

"Then, young one, you must let go of your need to feel in control. Let go of your fear and find peace in knowing that this is the path you were meant to walk. Many beings are faced with struggles: war, poverty, famine, disease. As Jedi we do what we can, but to allow ourselves to be consumed with grief over the galaxy's injustices will help no one, least of all those about whom we are worrying."

Obi Wan allowed his own reassurance and support be felt in the Force. This would be much easier once they established a bond, but for now their proximity was good enough. "Choose not to walk down the path of misery, Anakin."

Together, master and padawan worked to let the negative feelings be released into the Force. Its energy filled the room as Anakin's emotional barriers were taken down to allow the light greater freedom to flow.

Sensing the task was complete, Obi Wan patted the boy's head again. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," the boy confirmed, not without a touch of wonder. He settled back down into the mattress. Though emotionally strengthened and at peace, he felt physically drained from the crying and the subsequent Force exercise.

Obi Wan pulled the covers up around his apprentice, not really thinking about what he was doing. Somehow, that small act had the effect of soothing the boy further. Apparently the ritual of _tuck in_, as Anakin had called it his first night at the Temple, had a positive psychological effect on the boy. Perhaps it would be worth the effort to continue the practice.

"Now, Anakin, do you understand how releasing your feelings into the Force is different than trying to force them down and forget about them?"

"Mm-hmm," A sleepy, affirmative sound left the boy's throat.

"And did you notice how your connection to the light side was impeded with the clutter of strong emotion?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Are you listening to me, young one?"

"Mm-hmm."

"As you obviously are not, how about I just let you sleep?" Obi Wan asked, mostly to himself.

He left Anakin's room and returned to his own. Sleep did not come as easily.

If Anakin's grief stemmed primarily from concern for his mother's welfare, rather than simply the pain of being separated, it would not be as simple to resolve.

More disquieting was the thought that his padawan's concerns were actually quite justified.

Obi Wan reflected back to his own padawanship, and the greatest mistake he ever made: leaving the Order to help with the crisis on Melida-Daan.

While he acknowledged that the action had been a mistake, Obi Wan never would regret the motive. It was compassion and concern for the people of the planet that prompted him to leave in the first place. A Jedi should not allow himself to be too firmly attached to any particular cause, but neither should he close his heart to suffering of others. The Force would lead him to the battles that were his to fight.

Qui Gon had forced Obi Wan to choose between his place among the Jedi, and what his heart believed was the right and ethical thing to do. He could not in good conscience leave the youth of Melida-Daan to certain destruction when it was in his power to help.

While Obi Wan was wrong to leave the Jedi, Qui Gon…possibly…may have been wrong to force his hand like that. It had figuratively torn the padawan in two.

Was Obi Wan getting ready to make the same mistake with Anakin?

Force, he hoped not. This would definitely need to be a matter of meditation.


	20. Part III, Chapter 8

Obi Wan entered the communications hall in the Jedi Temple, where several long-range holocom arrays were available for use.

Jedi communicated with one another mainly through comlinks, and did not normally need to make long distance calls to non-Jedi. Thus, the hall was mostly used for official communication, though private use was permissible within reason.

Obi Wan seated himself at one of the transmitting arrays. The assistive device he carried plugged into the machine and allowed Obi Wan to input the proper codes for the sector he sought.

He wasn't quite sure if this would turn out to be a waste of time, or if the Force was perhaps with this endeavour. He'd find out shortly. The proper codes were imputed, and the Jedi waited for a response.

"You've reached the Central Communication System of Theed, Naboo," a chipper, female voice announced, "How may I direct your call?"

He never quite knew where to look while speaking on a holocom. The voice came through a speaker, but he knew the image should be somewhere to the left and above the source of sound.

"This is Jedi Knight Obi Wan Kenobi. I wish to speak with her majesty, Queen Amidala, if I may."

"Oh," the voice faltered for a moment, then returned as bright as before. "Well, I see that you've contacted us through official Galactic Republic lines, from the Jedi Temple directly. May I ask what this call is regarding?"

Obi Wan considered this for a moment. "Tell her my name, and that I wish to speak to her regarding a personal matter."

"Sure thing," the voice acknowledged. "Let me put you on hold, Master Jedi while I try to connect your call."

Pleasant orchestra music began to play as he waited. Obi Wan drummed his fingers on the edge of the array before he nervously straightened into a proper standing position. He never cared for holocom calls. Unable to gain a sense through the Force of what the person was feeling, nor to discern the person's body movements or facial expressions, Obi Wan was forced to rely entirely on vocal cues, which left him feeling at a disadvantage. Especially knowing that the other person could see him just fine.

After several minutes on hold, a new, yet familiar, voice projected from the holocom speaker. "Obi Wan?"

"Queen Amidala," he bowed respectfully releasing some of his nervousness into the Force. "I appreciate your answering this call. I'm sure you're incredibly busy and I will try not to take too much of your time."

"Oh, Obi Wan, don't be ridiculous. You needn't act so formal. I'm glad to be able to talk to you again. I _do_ need to leave for a meeting in another forty five minutes, but until then, the time is yours."

Padme did sound genuinely pleased to speak to him, though with politicians it was always a bit tricky to tell. Then again, the two of them had enjoyed a friendly rapport, especially toward the end of his mission to Naboo.*

"I hope you are doing well, milady," Obi Wan began.

"I am," she responded simply. "And what about you and Anakin?"

"We are doing well, for the most part," Obi Wan admitted, "However, there is one matter which I hoped to discuss with you. Do you recall, milady, shortly after my master's funeral, coming to me and asking if there was any way to repay me for my service to your people?"

"I do," Padme confirmed. "That was when you told me that service was its own reward, and Jedi do not accept any other."

"So I did, milady." Obi Wan struggled to put to words what he wished to ask. "Nevertheless, I...I was wondering if it would be permissible for me to ask a favor of you. Not that I mean to obligate you in any form, if you object to it," he added hurriedly. "This isn't an official appeal from the Jedi, but a personal request."

"And what would that be?" He could hear the curiosity in her voice.

"I have been training Anakin for three months now, and he's made excellent development in the Jedi arts. You should see him now, milady, you'd be astonished at his progress." He took a moment to reflect on that before continuing. "However, he is having a difficult time adjusting to the social aspect of living in the Jedi Temple. One of the main problems is that he misses his mother terribly."

"Well, that's only natural," the queen interjected sadly. "I'd be shocked if he didn't. Poor Ani..."

"Letting go of attachments will be a hard lesson for him to learn, as he is starting it so late."

"Are you planning on arranging a reunion of some kind, then?" Padme guessed.

"No," Obi Wan exclaimed, a bit sharper than he intended. "I mean...no. It...it would only complicate the situation. No, actually, I was hoping to be able to arrange for Shmi Skywalker's freedom. You see, milady, if Anakin felt reasonably secure that his mother is not suffering, it will be easier for him."

"I understand..." her voice was thoughtful.

"And," he sighed, "Well, this would be a rather presumptuous request, milady...but, I have no means of securing her freedom myself. Even if I had opportunity to travel to Tatooine, I have no funds or possessions of my own to barter for her release. The Temple finances are to be drawn on for mission expenditures, and as a Jedi I cannot justify its use for freeing any one particular slave over another. It's not within my realm of authority to authorize such a transaction."

"So you want _me_ to free Anakin's mother?"

"Well, yes. But I'm afraid my petition is more presumptuous than even that, your majesty," a wry smile graced his features. "What good is Ms. Skywalker's freedom, if she is still in danger as a single woman on a ruthless desert planet with no means of making a living? It's entirely possible, even likely, that she'll find herself enslaved again. If I may be so bold, I would like to ask that she be transported to Naboo. Perhaps some arrangements could be made for her housing and employment there?"

There was no answer, and Obi Wan could not see the image to get any indication of how she had taken this petition. His instincts as a negotiator urged him to continue speaking, rather than allow for an awkward silence.

"I realize that, as a Jedi, I have no right to be asking such a thing of you. So I am asking as a friend…if you do not object to that association, milady. Naboo owes much to Anakin's actions during the space battle, and there could be no greater way to thank him than to give his mother at least a fighting chance for a better life than that of a slave."

"Obi Wan, you do not need to convince me," Padme stated decidedly. "If I seemed hesitant, it's only because I was contemplating the best way to arrange for Shmi's release. I wouldn't for an instant think of leaving her on Tatooine. When we were stranded, she opened her home to us, and I'm ready to do the same. She may live and work in the palace. If she wants to save the money she earns to buy a home elsewhere, that's up to her, but she will always be welcome with me."

Tension melted from his shoulders as he heard her answer, one that was far better than he dared hope. "I cannot thank you enough, milady. This means so much to me, and will mean even more for Anakin. You have both our gratitude. I'm very sorry for imposing on you."

In the Theed palace, Padme smiled warmly and shook her head. "You have no reason to be sorry. While you were here, you refused reward of any kind. Even now, you ask a favor, and it is not for your own enrichment, but motivated by compassion to others."

Her words had embarrassed him, and he attempted to wave the compliment aside, but Padme would not have it. "It is I who should be thanking you, Obi Wan Kenobi. Consider your request done."

* * *

Anakin trudged into the quarters he shared with his master. It had been a bad day.

Classes had dragged on forever, the lectures were boring, and somehow he couldn't duplicate what the teachers had demonstrated in class.

He'd stubbed his toe on his desk. A glitch in his datapad caused his homework to disappear. Then he'd spent so long talking to one instructor after class that he got stuck way in the back of the lunch line. By the time he got to the counter, they were all out of chocolate pastry puffs.

Yes, it was shaping up to be a miserable day.

"Ah, Anakin, you're back," Obi Wan was smiling a bit brighter than usual. "I found something in the news today that I think you'll find interesting."

Anakin repressed a small groan. His master often told him that awareness of current events could greatly help them while on missions, and verified his belief in this claim by being sure his apprentice was up-to-date on galactic news that he found to be of interest.

Right now the benefits were all just theory, since he couldn't go on missions yet; and besides that, he and Obi Wan never quite saw eye to eye on what qualified as "interesting."

"I need to change my clothes first, Master," Anakin sighed. "The kid next to me in physics class got sick and puked all over his desk. I sit right by him and some of it got on my clothes."

"Ah, yes, I can smell that," Obi Wan acknowledged. "In that case, why don't you take a quick shower as well?"

Anakin raised an eyebrow and shrugged, then said "okay" just in case his master didn't notice it. It never failed to amaze him that Obi Wan was so liberal with water consumption. It was probably due to his sensitive nose. A little bit of vomit would never warrant a shower back on Tatooine. Especially not if he'd already taken one that morning. Or perhaps even sometime that week.

Once Anakin washed up and changed clothing, he stretched to get ready for his usual aerobic and fitness training with his master. He'd forgotten all about Obi Wan's previous remarks until a datapad containing a news article was placed into his hand.

"Oh, come on Master, we're already late for our usual training, and you said you'd teach me to backflip in the air today!"

"I told you I would _begin_ to coach you in acrobatic maneuvers, my eager young Padawan." Obi Wan corrected, as usual. "And as keen as you are to start that training, I think you'll appreciate the contents of this article."

Anakin shrugged again and plopped onto the coach. His own master settled down at the opposite end, waiting.

The article was one pulled from the Naboo Chronicles. The boy perked up at that, wondering if it would be about Padme.

The first few lines revealed this to be the case. She had gone on a brief trip…

to Tatooine?

Anakin glanced up at his master with a startled expression before looking back at the datapad. He could hardly believe what he read.

Padme had travelled to Tatooine to free his mom!

It said Watto, unwilling to give up his only slave, refused the representatives she'd sent initially, so Padme went in person to negotiate a deal with Jabba the Hutt.

Jabba ordered Watto to surrender Shmi. In exchange Padme promised to send free shipments of water to Tatooine for one year.

When asked to comment on why she had deigned to meet and negotiate with gangsters, Padme replied that "Ms. Skywalker did me a great service back when I was stranded on Tatooine during the Trade Federation blockade. It's my privilege to repay the good deed done. Also, I guess you could say I'm doing it as a favor for a friend."

Obi Wan smiled as he sensed Anakin's amazement, initial disbelief, and growing delight.

Padme had called yesterday to inform Obi Wan of the success of the endeavor. But the Jedi was glad that it had also been reported in Naboo's news, which could be found on the holonet. Explaining to Anakin just why he had asked for Shmi's freedom would have been terribly awkward.

Even Obi Wan had questioned in himself whether the decision was hypocritical. For Anakin to have asked the same thing would have been immediately frowned upon, and _rightly_ so, as attachment.

For Obi Wan, there was no attachment involved. He had never met Shmi Skywalker, had never even spoken to her. Rather, he could almost feel in the Unifying Force that the greater good had been served by such action. Though just _how_ one person's safety could have such a wide ripple of influence, he couldn't even begin to guess.

Besides that, it was the just the right and decent thing to do. Both for Shmi, and also for Anakin, who would no longer experience that debilitating moral dilemma of feeling like you've abandoned someone in need of your help.

The Jedi was glad that Padme had been so persistent. And really, she should not have alluded to him at all. He barely did a thing in the matter. It was _her_ cleverness and determination that got the job done.

The boy read the article through once, twice, three times. By the end of the third, he was laughing in delight. "I can't believe it!"

"It's quite incredible," his master acknowledged calmly.

"Padme's so _amazing_!" Anakin breathed reverently.

"Oh, I agree."

A twinge of possessiveness caused Anakin to purse his lips. His master wasn't supposed to agree quite so earnestly.

Obi Wan waved a hand toward the article and elaborated on the source of his admiration. "Did you notice what she did? It's really quite impressive. The queen purchased Shmi's freedom with shipments of _water._ That's a precious resource on Tatooine. In this way, her majesty is doing Tatooine a great service, as water is obviously vital to life. But even more than that, she conducted the whole business without giving Watto, Jabba, or any other being any more purchasing power to acquire additional slaves."

He chuckled and shook his head admiringly. "She conducted a legitimate transaction, freed your mother, and enriched the people of Tatooine, all without forfeiting a single credit to the corrupt hands of the slavers. And in the end, it cost Naboo very little. They already have water in abundance. _That_, my Padawan, is an elegant display of sound politics and respect of life."

Anakin felt a bit of relief. It figured that his master was enthralled not by Padme, but by her successful negotiation.

Let him get excited about interplanetary trade and distribution of resources. As for Anakin, he'd never forget what Padme had done to help his mom, what she'd done for _him_. Because Padme said she did this as a favor for a friend, and who else could she mean but Anakin?


	21. Part IV, Chapter 1

A/N: **Part IV is currently under construction. Please do not read on. **There will be scores of inconsistencies until I'm able to uniformly implement the intended changes across the board. New material is being added, and unnecessary elements are being removed. ****

If anyone wants notice of when reconstruction is complete, feel free to send me a message. I make no promises about the time frame, as it is extremely difficult to make time for writing.

~WhyMustIWrite, April 29, 2012

* * *

"Masters, do you really think Anakin and I are ready for an assignment?"

Obi Wan stood in the center of the Council chamber, caught off guard by the seemingly hasty decision. "He's only ten, and he hasn't even constructed his own lightsaber."

"This assignment is simple," Mace Windu assured. "There should be no need for lightsabers, or combat of any kind."

"Use it as an opportunity to build your master-padawan relationship," Ki-Adi Mundi added. "Didn't you say that the two of you have yet to develop a training bond?"

"I did," Obi Wan confirmed, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand why it's been so difficult."

"Time away from the Temple, good it will be for you two," Yoda said. "Working together in a new environment, help it may."

The young knight felt uneasy being sent on assignment before establishing a bond with the boy, but if Master Yoda thought it would help, he wouldn't refuse.

* * *

"We get to go on a _mission_?" Anakin exclaimed delightedly.

"It's a simple assignment, my young padawan." Obi Wan smiled in spite of himself at the boy's exuberance. "We are flying to the planet Xiluke, where we'll pick up a Force-sensitive child for Jedi training."

It didn't sound like a very exciting assignment, Anakin thought, but at least they'd be flying to another planet. He'd told Qui Gon that he would visit them all, but lately the Padawan was beginning to doubt that the Council would let him leave the Jedi Temple at all. "What's it like on Xiluke?"

His master settled down into an armchair, interlacing his fingers in what Anakin recognized as his "lecture-mode."

"It's a rather untamed planet- full of wilderness, and very few settlements. The Xilukans are a reclusive people. Force-sensitive, every one of them. Yet, there are few Xilukans in the Order."

"Why? I mean, if they're all Force-sensitive, then couldn't they all join the Jedi?"

"Adults cannot be trained as Jedi- especially Xilukan adults. They are tightly bound to their tradition. And parents are highly unlikely to allow their children to leave the planet and be raised as Jedi. It's only in recent decades that they've allowed the Jedi to take in their orphans. The Xilukans generally disdain the idea of raising a child who is not one's own. Adoption is rare. Older children who can mostly care for themselves are placed in wards and provided with the resources they need to survive. But the very youngest, who still require active guardians to care for them full-time, are now given to the Jedi."

Anakin crinkled his nose in thought "But, then, what did the Xilukans do with those orphans before?"

It took Obi Wan a while to answer. His sightless gaze unconsciously shifted to Anakin's right. "They used to burn them," he said finally. "Generally in the fire of their parent's funeral pyre."

The boy's eyes went wide, and outrage was palpable in his voice. "They _what_!"

"It's a real tragedy, certainly," Obi Wan nodded.

"That's _disgusting! _What kind of animals _are _they?" Anakin almost couldn't believe that someone - not just someone, but a whole _society_ - would throw helpless babies into a fire. Except that he _could _believe it, having seen his fair share of insensible brutality while living on Tatooine.

"Mind your words, Padawan, and release your anger," his master said sternly. "They are not animals, but _people_, who were raised and taught to think nothing of the practice. When the Jedi reached out to them in recent decades, they were willing to reconsider their ways: that is something for which that generation should be commended. It's difficult to let go of tradition, especially for the Xilukan kingdom. Changing a people's world-view is a slow process, and only very rarely, in cases like this, would a Jedi even attempt to encourage it."

The words placated Anakin long enough for his master to hand him a data disk. "We leave for Xiluke in the morning. Until then, and during our travel there, I want you to study the information on this disk."

Anakin accessed the device and found it crammed with facts about the planet and the people of Xiluke.

"Couldn't I just wait until I get there and learn it all firsthand?" Anakin asked hopefully.

"No, Padawan. I want you to be as prepared as possible before we arrive," Obi Wan said firmly. "Pay special attention to their religious practices and code of etiquette. It's quite rigid, and it wouldn't do to offend them."

"Yes, Master," Anakin sighed. It had been worth a shot.

* * *

"If most of them don't speak Basic, how are we supposed to communicate?" Anakin wondered aloud as they strode down the ramp of their spacecraft. They had found a clearing several miles outside the city, as the planet boasted no official landing strips.

"Qui Gon and I used to come here regularly, about every three or four years. Master Jinn developed a good rapport with the king long before I became his apprentice. Thus, the Council sent us to retrieve the orphan Xilukans whenever possible. I've picked up their language reasonably well. Just follow my lead, and you'll be fine."

Once they entered the canopy of trees, the Jedi Knight stopped and inhaled deeply, releasing it with a sigh. "I love the smell of this forest. As reclusive as the Xilukans are, they don't allow for much traffic on and off planet. It's retained much of its natural beauty."

Anakin was equally enthralled. Having grown up on a barren planet, he could appreciate the raw, untamed beauty of their surroundings. "This place is strong in the Force."

His master nodded. "So glad you noticed, Padawan. The Force does indeed resonate strongly here. Not just in the inhabitants, but in the planet itself." He paused, "You _did _read that data disk I gave you, right?"

"Sure, I did." Anakin confirmed quickly.

"So, tell me something you learned."

"Um…the Xilukans are humanoid," Anakin began. "They're biologically similar to human, but have some, um, physical-logical…

"_Physiological_"

"Right. Physiological differences, like longer ears, denser bone structure, and pale blue skin."

Obi Wan nodded, relieved to know that he had actually done his reading.

Anakin eyed the dense foliage around them. "The disk also says that the forest is filled with poisonous snakes and dangerous animals."

"Indeed."

The knight already had his perceptions trained on several of those wild animals within a 50 meter perimeter. As close as four meters away lay a particularly large poisonous viper, but it seemed to have just finished a meal and would not bother them if they kept their distance. "Just make sure you stay close to me, padawan."

"All right," Anakin assured him. "I'll let you know if I see anything dangerous."

Obi Wan's lips thinned. It bothered him that Anakin somehow felt that _he _was the one in need of protection. But he held his tongue. Pride was unbecoming for a Jedi. And in any case, for all the advantages of Force sight, it was true that there were certain things, like lasers, that seeing eyes could perceive which he as yet could not.

The journey went without incident. At the gates, they were met by blue-skinned guards who escorted them on to the palace.

As they entered the city, Anakin noticed that Xilukans used little "high" technology. It felt like stepping back in time. Their buildings were crafted mainly with stone and lumber, rather than durasteel and plastoids. While the roads were dotted with a few outdated landspeeders, the traffic mainly consisted of beast-driven carts.

The people dressed mostly in greens and yellows, and their clothes were intricately designed. Anakin recognized symbols on the back of their robes and outer garments. These were the family crests he'd read about on the data disk. Family lineage was important in determining social status. Both guards leading them had the same crest on their jackets, showing that they hailed from the same clan. They each carried a heavy sword at their side.

The palace was also made from stone and, though four stories in height and considerably larger than any of the other edifices, it was rather modest in size when compared to the sprawling Theed palace. Inside was nowhere near as elegant as the Theed palace either, but it was pretty all the same. The halls were lined with colorful tapestries and the floor with hand-woven rugs.

When they entered the main chamber, King Rueyen rose from his finely carved mahogany throne to greet them. Obi Wan greeted him in Xilukan and bowed deepily, Anakin watching and following his lead.

The padawn almost straightened again, before remembering that he was not to raise his head from a bow until he'd been properly acknowledged.

King Rueyen, a Xilukan with ivory-colored hair, and skin an aristocratically paler blue than the peasants, placed his hand briefly upon Obi Wan's head before removing it. His master rose from his bow.

The King did not touch Anakin's head. Instead he began speaking to Obi Wan.

The boy wondered if maybe he'd missed his cue to stand. At the first hint of his rising, though, Obi Wan casually placed a hand on his apprentice's shoulder, keeping him in place.

Anakin's back began to feel achy as the men conversed in a language he could not understand. The king's tone was grave, and sounded like he was rebuking them. At one point, the monarch said the name "Jinn," and Obi Wan's response was solemn enough for Anakin to assume he was informing him of the Jedi Master's death.

The Xilukan exclaimed and, gestured wildly with his hands. He sounded genuinely distressed.

Finally, after some long minutes, the name "Anakin Skywalker" came up, as Obi Wan introduced him. At long last, the boy felt the king's hand on his head. Anakin straightened, only barely restraining a soft sigh of relief.

The king resumed his place on the throne and the conversation continued, with the King sounding no friendlier than he'd been at the start, but Obi Wan's responses were reassuring calm.

Finally, the Jedi Knight bowed low once more and, with a silent gesture to the boy, led his Padawan out of the throne room. Once they were out of the palace, the Jedi Knight grasped his apprentice's shoulder.

"Good job back there. It was an uncomfortable encounter. You conducted yourself well, despite the disrespect."

Anakin arched his back and sighed. "Disrespect?"

"To not be acknowledged within the first five or six seconds of a bow is considered rude. Although, the slight was directed more to me than you. King Rueyen was very fond of Qui Gon. He wasn't pleased that I came without him."

"But that's not your fault!" Anakin exclaimed. "He's not still upset with you, is he?"

"I'm afraid he is," Obi Wan sighed, leading the way quickly along cobbled streets. "The Xilukans considered me to be Qui Gon's _Nij-dhar-ana_, his son-in-spirit, because we were unrelated by blood and yet Force-bound. Such Spirit Pacts are rare for Xilukans, and steeped in sacred traditions. They say that those bound by Spirit Pacts can never be separated, not even by death. We did not consider that so different from our own code- there is no death; there is the Force."

For a long moment, the only sound from the Jedi Knight came from the stride of his boots against the cobblestone. Anakin hurried to keep up with his master's pace.

Finally he continued, "The Jedi Council had hoped that as Qui Gon's _Nij-dhar-ana_, I would be accepted despite his absence. We misunderstood the nature of Xilukan Spirit Pacts. They don't persist beyond death. Rather, our fates are intertwined, and I was expected to follow Qui Gon in death. Now that he is gone, and the Force-bond between us broken, our Spirit Pact is void."

"Does that mean we have to leave?"

"Not yet. I don't like to think of what would happen to the youngling if we left without him. And King Rueyen would rather see the boy leave as well. It was, after all, he and Qui Gon who established the arrangement years ago. Rueyen is giving me a chance to prove myself. It will involve the completion of some task, I'm sure. I just don't know what it is yet… and probably neither do they. But if the gods show their favor, I'll have established my own rapport with the Xilukans, and we'll be allowed to leave with the orphan." Obi Wan smiled a bit apologetically. "This was unexpected but, until they assign the task, all we can do is wait."

Normally, those words would cause Anakin to groan. But since in this case "waiting" meant staying on an exotic, force-strong planet with the prospect for adventure in completing a task to prove themselves to the native population, the boy took it rather well. "So where are we going now?"

"To meet the orphans."


	22. Part IV, Chapter 2

Obi Wan led the way to the orphans' ward. The building was solidly built with dark, heavy wood and kept in good repair.

Anakin looked for the door chime or signal for entry, but found none. He gave his master a puzzled glance, and saw that he was taking a deep breath. The breath was not, as Anakin initially supposed, a calming or preparatory technique. It was to lend power to the man's voice as he loudly called out "Hodi!" to announce their presence.

The door swung open quickly and a Xilukan girl of around sixteen years of age appeared. She recognized the older Jedi immediately. "Padawan Kenobi!" She hurriedly looked around, eyes lingering briefly over Anakin before resuming their scan. "But…where is Master Jinn?"

"He…he's not here." Obi Wan obviously did not wish to drop the news right there at the doorstep. "I am a Jedi Knight now, and I've brought my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker."

The Xilukan inclined her head at this cue, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "It is very pleasant to meet you, Anakin of the Skywalker. I am Pila of the Werkeshi."

Anakin was glad she spoke basic, even if it was rather formal and stiff. "Nice to meet you too," he grinned.

Pila's head remained lowered, waiting.

Obi Wan cleared his throat.

Anakin blushed at his error and placed his hand on the Pila's head allowing her to straighten. "Sorry…I didn't mean to be rude."

The Xilukan pursed her lips, but as Anakin seemed sincere, she nodded her acceptance of the apology.

A handshake would be so much easier, the padawan thought irritably. But according to the datapad he studied, hand-on-hand contact was considered a display of intimacy on par with a kiss. How weird was that?

"Please enter, Knight Kenobi, Anakin of the Skywalker." She opened the door wider and beckoned them in. "We were expecting you, ever since the two new ones arrived." She paused. "However, the others will be disappointed that Master Jinn did not accompany you this time. Please let him know he was missed, will you not?"

Thankfully, the teen didn't wait for a response before leading them into a large room with brown and green mats on the floor, a low oval table, and a large gong by the entry way. Using a small mallet, she struck the bronze plate three times.

Instantly, children began to file in. There were eleven in all, ranging in age from early-teens to six years old. Upon seeing the Jedi, they clamored in Xilukan, but Anakin could pick out the name "Padawan Kenobi," and "Master Jinn" was spoken in inquiring tones.

After presumably telling them that Qui Gon was not present, Obi Wan introduced his apprentice, this time as Padawan Skywalker, and each child, beginning from the oldest introduced themselves in turn.

By the time introductions were over, Pila brought back some kind of tea and everyone settled down on floor mats.

A large gourd was filled first. The liquid looked more like steaming, mossy water than tea. Anakin watched curiously as the Xilukan girl placed a straight metallic straw in the green, swampy mixture and, as hostess, took the first sip before passing it to the boy sitting closest to her.

The gourd was passed along from person to person. Obi Wan had apparently known this was coming, for he had chosen mats for the two of them much closer to the start of the circle. Anakin privately felt sorry for whoever had to be the last one in line and drink after everyone else had gotten their mouth all over it.

Once the tea was passed all the way around, a prayer was said and the symbol of their fellowship and unity was successfully established. The communal gourd was put away and every person received their own individual cup. Some cups were made of wood, others of clay. None looked like they came from the same set, but all were in reasonable condition.

With this transition, also came a more casual atmosphere. The room filled with instant chatter in a garbled mix of Basic and Xilukan.

Obi Wan quietly sipped his tea, savoring the mellow, earthy taste as he allowed the younglings to excitedly update him on what had happened since his last visit. He generally spoke himself only to translate for Anakin or to ask an occasional question. Obi Wan was used to letting Qui Gon do the talking. Anakin easily made up for it with his penchant for storytelling and his eager questions. The boy was innately curious and loved to learn, as long as the mode of learning was hands-on.

Once the younger ones caught him up on the news (in the best Basic each one could manage wanting to impress him with their improvements), Pila informed them of the newest, albeit temporary, residents in this orphan's ward.

The two most recent arrivals were very young siblings that at the moment were taking their naps. The father had died one harvest ago, due to a work accident. Their mother died at the start of the new moon cycle, after being bitten by a snake. The orphans had been expecting the Jedi's arrival ever since, knowing the brother and sister were too young to be cared for properly in the ward.

An eleven year old boy, who had introduced himself as Brenen of the Sertos, broke the subsequent lull in conversation by asking in rough Basic, "Why not is Master Jinn here?"

Obi Wan's lips thinned, and when he responded, it was a mix of Xilukan and Basic. "_Kviery bu_: 'Why _isn't_ Master Jinn here?' _Luquobel zenu_ 'is not' _hapana_ 'not is.' Understand?"

"_Acha_," Brenen nodded, but he was not to be sidetracked by a lesson in proper Basic. "So then…isn't Master Jinn can soon come?"

The Jedi gave up on correcting bad syntax. "_Nehi_, Brenen. I'm sorry to say he cannot." The rest of the answer was in Xilukan, to make sure it was understandable to even the youngest.

Anakin, though unable to understand the words, could easily interpret the stricken looks on their faces. He felt bad that these kids, who had already lost both parents, were now faced with the loss of someone else they had admired.

The heavy silence following the pronouncement was punctuated by the shrill cry from another room.

Pila sighed. "Trel has woken from his nap."

"Him I get!" Brenen announced, rising quickly from his floor mat and hurrying to another room. Moments later, he returned with a wailing infant in his arms and a bleary eyed toddler trailing behind, hair tangled from sleep.

Pila frowned. "Brenen! Support his head!" The Xilukan teen made an upward motion with her hand, using the Force to lift the child's head until the boy adjusted his arms. But even comfortably supported, the baby continued his crying. Brenen's bouncing and hushing noises made no difference.

"Trel has been crying since he was brought here," Pila explained apologetically. "He seems to know something bad happened to his mother, and he does not understand why she is not here."

Anakin's heart clenched with sympathy. "Can I try holding him?" he whispered tightly.

Brenen nodded and transferred the bundle to the apprentice's arms.

Anakin tried rocking him, but the Trel only wailed louder. The tiny Xilukan had a round face, chubby with baby fat. His pale blue skin, while smooth and soft, was mottled with darker blue patches. The tone would even out as he grew

The padawan continued trying to pacify the baby. Silly faces, curious noises, gentle bouncing, and soothing pats were all in vain. However, the sleepy toddler, Trel's sister, giggled at the stranger's antics.

"Here, Padawan, let me see him," Obi Wan offered, holding his arms out. Anakin relinquished the baby, not without some relief.

Obi Wan gently projected his own calm into the Force, knowing the child would sense it. Within moments, the cries drastically lessened in volume. But baby Trel fussed and whined all the same. The young man rocked the bundled infant and began to hum.

At first no particular tune passed his lips, only a soothing nonsensical reverberation. Eventually, though, the notes began to form a melody.

Trel stilled, and finally cooed along, trying to imitate the new sounds.

Obi Wan smiled at the response and switched from a throaty hum to vocalized "_ah"_ sounds which would be easier for Trel to mimic. Once the infant was pleasantly occupied, Obi Wan gentle probed the little one's aura, finding the torn bond that likely had been bothering the child since his mother's death.

Force bonds that are torn abruptly could cause discomfort for several days after severing. While the damage normally healed on its own, little Trel apparently would need some help. Obi Wan continued vocalizing a song whose words he'd long forgotten. His calloused thumb stroked the back of the infant's head as he used the Force to mend the breach.

The end result was a happier baby, and a weak bond between Jedi and Xilukan infant. To snap even this fragile bond would be distressing to the child who already lost one and couldn't understand, so Obi Wan let it be.

"I didn't know you had such a good voice!" Anakin's awed comment brought Obi Wan's focus back outward.

"_Hooshua_!" Trel's two-year-old sister agreed, using the Xilukan expression of pleasure or approval.

The knight shrugged and chuckled embarrassedly. He patted the toddler's head. _"Tera naam ni nani_?"

"Sowahl," she replied, in response to his request for her name.

"Sowahl?" Obi Wan repeated to confirm that he'd said it right.

Pila giggled. "Her name is _Soral,_" she clarified. "Of the Edishi, like her brother, of course."

Now that Obi Wan had stopped singing, Soral's attention was easily diverted, and she toddled over to the other newcomer, the one whose silly antics had made her laugh earlier. Anakin knelt down to her level and grinned. "Hi Soral!"

The girl giggled and poked his face curiously. Chubby toddler fingers rubbed on his cheek, as though trying to see if the white skin tone would wipe off. Finally, she pulled on his short padawan braid. "_Hooshua_!" she exclaimed.

"She likes your hair," a shy Xilukan girl, Astria, ventured to explain.

"Yeah?" Anakin's grin widened as fingered the lock. "This braid means I'm training to be a great Jedi knight! If you come with us, Soral, you'll probably get your own someday."

The toddler didn't understand a word he just said, but Anakin's tone was cheerful enough for her to clap delightedly in response.

Obi Wan and Anakin stayed for dinner at the children's request, though the Jedi insisted that they were fine eating from their own rations.

"Do you mean to leave right away with the little ones?" Pila asked during the meal.

"_Nehi_. We cannot," Obi Wan replied. "His Majesty was clear that he would not allow us to leave with the younglings until the gods have shown their approval of me, as they did with Qui Gon thirty years ago.

"Oh of course!" Pila exclaimed. "It would inauspicious for them to leave Xiluka if the gods aren't pleased."

"How will you be tested?" A boy named Rusel asked curiously.

"I don't know yet. There's little to do but wait until I'm presented with my task. Not that we're in any particular hurry." Obi Wan smiled at Anakin. "This planet's Force-strong environment will be ideal for my padawan and I to do some training."

"But stay you will where?" Brenen queried.

"But where will you stay?" Obi Wan corrected.

"Well, here of course," the boy answered with a roll of his eyes. "But what about you?"

The knight grinned in private amusement. "We haven't made our arrangements yet."

Pila's eyes widened. "Oh! Could you perhaps stay here again?"

The others chimed in with their agreement. When Qui Gon came with Obi Wan, he often took time out for extra training, just as Obi Wan was now getting ready to do with Anakin. And Qui Gon generally chose to stay in the orphan's ward, if the room was available.

The orphans loved Qui Gon. He taught them a few simple Force games that the children played in the Jedi temple. The Jedi Master was also the one to spark their interest in learning Basic, along with other subjects. On their visits he would often bring them books to study, making the orphans among the best educated of the Xilukan population.

_"Acha._ If there's room available, we can stay." Obi Wan agreed.

"I am glad!" the oldest Xilukan cheered. "Tomorrow I will take my…how do you call it?... rite of passage." Pila rubbed the back of her neck in a nervous gesture. "If you stay long enough, I will be an adult by the time you leave."

Anakin knew from his reading that the Xilukan coming-of-age ritual required spending several days alone in the forest with very few supplies. The Xilukan used this time to practice survival skills and meditate on the gods. If they returned alive from this dangerous undertaking, they would officially be considered adults.

"Ah, I hope you're prepared," Obi Wan remarked, concern shading his voice.

"With the gods' favor, I should be all right," Pila assured. "I was only worried about how the younger ones would manage while I am gone. Now that you are staying, I am much more at ease! Surely there will be no trouble if _you_ are watching over them. Thank you so much!"

"Oh…right." Obi Wan nodded hesitantly, realizing he had somehow managed to assume responsibility for the running of the orphans' ward for the duration of their stay. It wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind, but he couldn't very well back down now.

_This assignment is quite simple_, Master Windu had assured him.

Indeed.


	23. Part IV, Chapter 3

A/N: At the closing scene of this chapter, you'll find the first traces of Kioshie's hand in this story. She also co-authored chapters 24-26.

* * *

The Jedi spent their first part of the day, not in training, but in the orphan's ward caring for Trel and Soral. The children thirteen or older had some form of employment during the day, and the younger children were just not equipped to handle the care of an infant and toddler.

Obi Wan and Anakin helped toward that end. However, once the older children returned from work, they found time to break away into the nearby forest and engage in various training exercises.

The Council may have been mistaken about the straightforward nature of the assignment, but they at least were right about it being beneficial to their burgeoning master-padawan relation. Apart from the intangible yet ever-present pressure Anakin felt to catch up and impress his age-mates, he was much more affable to train. And while the boy still disliked meditation exercises, he at least tolerated them better.

As for Obi Wan, the place dripped with memories of his own trips with Qui Gon. Remembering Yoda's advice to try to be more open, he shared some of those with Anakin. He never saw his padawan quite so attentive to his every word than when he was speaking of the late Jedi Master.

Once the sun began to set, the duo retired from their training to return to the orphan compound.

Soral immediately took a liking to Anakin. When the Jedi arrived, she'd hurry forward as fast as her pudgy two-year old legs could manage. Once Anakin was kneeling to her level, she'd grasp his short padawan braid while exclaiming "_Paie! Paie!_"

"Congratulations, Anakin," Obi Wan grinned. "She's claiming you as her brother."

The padawan initially felt quite pleased… but eventually, being constantly followed around and clung to became just a little tiring. She loved hearing Anakin speak in Basic, and would listen curiously before attempting to imitate some words. She preferred for Anakin to play with her, and slept quicker if he was the one setting her down for nap.

"Are you sure you've never cared for children before?" his master asked in amusement. "You're a natural. You should volunteer for crèche-duty."

"No thanks," Anakin replied unenthusiastically. He waved an arm at Obi Wan, who was currently giving Trel his bottle. "What about you master? So far you're the only one Trel likes."

Obi Wan looked as though he was about to deny the statement, but then let out a resigned sigh.

"My Padawan is right, little one," the Knight said conversationally to the infant in his arms. "You're not very social."

Trel burbled as he drank from his bottle contentedly.

"Just so you know, this arrangement is only temporary," Obi Wan warned. "When we arrive at the Jedi Temple, I'll introduce you to your new crèche master. Do try to get along with him or her."

The baby released his bottle long enough to make a cranky sound.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't understand you…right?"

"Perhaps a little, on an intuitive level, but certainly not completely. Trel can interpret my tone and feelings, but not my spoken words. Still, I've heard that it's good to speak to developing younglings, in order to help them develop strong language skills."

"I didn't think you'd be so good with kids," Anakin bluntly admitted.

"Only with the ones that can't talk back or walk away." Obi Wan smiled ruefully. "Infants are quite straightforward. Once they get to Soral's age, it's hard to know what to do with them."

Obi Wan heard the sound of sucking air. He removed the bottle and shook it, confirming that it was empty. "See, now all that's left is to burp him, change him, and put him to bed for a nap."

"Well, have fun, Master." Anakin replied, backing away at the very mention of "changing" the baby. "I'll go see how the other kids are getting along."

* * *

Long after the other children were in bed, a certain infant stretched and wriggled in the Jedi Knight's arms.

"You _do_ have to sleep you know." Obi Wan sighed. "Don't make me use a Force suggestion."

Trel burbled and kicked his legs. Perhaps he knew it was an empty threat. It was easy to overdo a Force suggestion on one so young. He wouldn't want to knock the child out cold, after all.

The boy's tiny fist closed around Obi Wan's index finger, and he tried to pull it into his gaping, toothless mouth.

"Oh, you don't want that in your mouth," the Jedi assured him, putting up enough resistance for the tiny tugs to be unsuccessful.

"Uh!" Trel protested.

A tiny surge in the Force pulled Obi Wan's hand closer to the boy's face, where he proceeded to gum on the Jedi's finger. The young man laughed. "You're rather persistent, aren't you?"

Trel burbled happily again in response, tugging softly at their mental bond.

"Whoa, none of that now!" Obi Wan frowned, raising his shields. "You're something else, little one. I don't even have a bond with my own apprentice, and you want to access ours? Leave it be."

That small Force exertion seemed to tire out the infant. But true to his nature, he stubbornly tried to fight the oncoming sleep, and even managed another little tug at the bond.

"Maybe I'll look you up again in twelve years or so," Obi Wan murmured. "If Anakin is promoted by then, of course."

The Xilukan merely yawned, still fighting sleep with all of his considerable willpower.

The Jedi smiled and began to hum. It was the same soothing melody he had employed before.

The infant finally succumbed to the pull of slumber, and Obi Wan gently laid him down in the center of the sleep couch, as far from the edges as possible.

"You should sing the words, Master," a voice murmured from the doorway.

He'd been so focused on the child that he didn't notice his audience. Obi Wan turned to his eavesdropping apprentice. "I don't know them, Padawan. It was a song I heard many years ago, and the lyrics have since faded from memory."

"That's too bad." Anakin was still a bit surprised by the scene he'd witness. Obi Wan had looked positively fatherly with Trel. And yet he seemed to always be on guard not to act like a father, but as a teacher, to Anakin. "Where'd you learn it from?"

Obi Wan was silent for a long moment. Just when Anakin was beginning to think that he wouldn't answer, his master spoke.

"It's something my mother used to sing…if I'm not mistaken."

"You remember your family?" Anakin asked hesitantly.

"The Jedi are my family," he responded easily. "But, yes, I do have some recollections of my birth home."

"Oh."

Anakin's mood was so somber, that Obi Wan had to chuckle. "Come now, it's not as sad as you're apparently imagining. I don't speak of it often, but not because of any emotional pain. A Jedi does not dwell on the past, that's all."

He took a moment to collect his thoughts and pull together the vague memories of his earliest childhood days. "If you really want to know…I remember the feel of grass. A lot of it. As well as the sound of my mother's laugh. She smelled nice too, like… ah, I can't quite remember anymore, but it was pleasant. My father had a beard, which was coarse and scratchy. And very large hands that he used for tickling. I have a brother. A younger one. I can vaguely recall playing with him, shaking a rattle to hear his reaction, that sort of thing. His skin was very soft, too, like you'd expect for human babies."

Obi Wan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's about it as far as early memories go. Pleasant, overall. And I am grateful for the privilege of having been born into a good environment. Not everyone is so fortunate. I am also grateful for the path I am on now. Even fewer get to experience that honor."

"And how did you get to be a Jedi?" Anakin asked.

"My parents willingly gave me over to the Jedi Order when I was very young. That is the case for the majority of the Jedi, you know. Some Jedi were orphans, without families to care for them-as is the situation now with Trel and Soral, and others were removed from abusive and negligent homes."

"Were your parents sad when they let you go?" his padawan inquired in a small voice.

Obi Wan really couldn't be sure of the answer. After all, he had never asked them himself- and from whom else was he to get such information? As a preteen, frustrated and afraid that no master would choose him, he'd dolefully imagined that his parents rejected him because of his blindness. It was an unfair assumption, particularly in light of his positive memories with them. It was much more probable that they were sad in some way to see him go.

But the Knight sensed that the question was deeper than just an inquiry into the specific reaction of a Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi.

The master placed a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "Being a Jedi is a privilege, Anakin, a gift. The parents of future Jedi are proud to know their child will grow to be a peacekeeper in service to the Republic. They wish for their child to reach their fullest potential and know that the life ahead of them will be a meaningful one. Why else would they agree to such an arrangement?"

Obi Wan sighed then, knowing that he had not completely answered the question. "But, still, most parents do feel sadness for the separation, even if they believe it to be for the best. I imagine the occasion to be… bittersweet."

* * *

It was the fourth day since their arrival and Anakin watched as Obi-wan fed Trel. His master spent a lot of time with the baby. Sometimes, like last night, he doesn't even notice Anakin and Obi Wan usually notices _everything_. But he heard his master last night, talking to the infant about their bond. Why did Trel get to bond with _his_ master? And if a baby could do it, then why couldn't Anakin?

The boy swallowed against the thought that maybe Obi Wan just didn't like him enough. The fact is, Obi Wan was stuck with him because of Qui Gon. The other kids at the Temple thought Anakin was lucky to have arrived with a master. But at least when the other kids were chosen, they'd know that their masters actually _wanted_ them.

"When is the king going to give you your task?" Anakin asked, distracting himself from the hurtful thoughts. He suddenly had a strong urge to get away from here and be done with this mission. The sooner they dropped Trel off at the Temple crèche the better. "What are they waiting for?"

"I don't know, Anakin. These things take time," Obi Wan answered calmly.

"They're _wasting_ our time!" he persisted. "Why won't they just tell you how to get their approval already?"

"Padawan, you need to understand that the Xilukans don't view time as we do. Jedi tend to think of time as a commodity- something that can be spent, used, or wasted. We can have a lot of it, or we can run out. We have schedules and deadlines. Time moves linearly; once passed it's gone forever."

He made a sweeping gesture, not to indicate the nearly empty room, but the city beyond the walls that he easily "saw" through the Force. "Xilukans, on the other hand, focus on _events_- like a youth's rite of passage, or a banquet in honor of a god. They'll refer to the past by something that happened, the time of the earthquake, or when a new king took over, rather than numbering their months or years. To them, time is limitless; it moves in never-ending cycles and simply cannot be wasted. How long something takes is beside the point. Understand?"

"I guess so," Anakin replied while shifted his weight. "We think about time; they think about events. Since Xilukans don't really count time, it can't be wasted."

"That's right."

"Which means we'll be stuck here for a very long time."

Obi Wan raised his brows. "You need to clear your mind of impatience. I think you'd benefit from an hour in meditation."

Anakin sighed "You want us to meditate now?"

"Well, Trel still needs to be burped, and then I'll put him down for a nap. You go ahead; I'm sure you'll manage fine without me."

"Of course," Anakin grumbled.

* * *

Now that the infant was asleep, Obi Wan went to check on his Padawan's progress. Unfortunately, there was no progress to assess. Anakin was outside, playing a game with the Xilukan children. "I do wish you'd take your assignments seriously, my young apprentice."

"I _did_ meditate," Anakin protested. "I only just finished."

"Didn't I asked you to practice for an hour? It's been, at most, twenty minutes."

"But Master," the boy continued, "On this planet, it's not about the _time_. It's about the _event_, right? I meditated until my mind was cleared of impatience- how long I spent is beside the point."

Obi Wan smiled. "Nice try, Padawan." Choosing a spot under a wide spreading tree, he patted the ground beside him to indicate that Anakin join. "I appreciate your ability to quickly apply new lessons, but we are not Xilukan, and you owe me another 40 minutes of meditation."

The boy huffed and excused himself from the game before dropping down beside his master. At least meditation would be easier with the Jedi Knight participating. Already he could feel Obi Wan's calm permeating the Force around them. It wasn't difficult to slip into a meditative state, but it sure was boring. He lost track of how long they'd been sitting there, and was actually on the verge of sleep when -

_A small aircraft zoomed through the air… images of the thick, vast forest… a young woman with exotic orange skin…_

Anakin startled out of meditation. "Master, I- I saw something!"

"Indeed?"

"Yeah...a...a ship. And this orange lady."

Obi Wan leaned forward with interest. "Go on."

"I saw a forest from above. From inside the ship, I guess."

"Was this 'orange lady' also inside the ship?"

"Yes... No... I don't know! It was kind of confusing. I didn't get to see a lot." Anakin's eyes widened. "Did I just have a vision?"

"More likely it was just a dream. It felt like you had fallen asleep."

"I wasn't asleep," the boy frowned. "I don't know why, but I have a bad feeling about this."

The Knight's hand clasped his shoulder. "Don't worry, my young apprentice. I'm not upset- I know how easy it is fall asleep, and you did well in this session in any case." He gave Anakin's shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before rising to his feet. "I believe we've done enough energy training for the day. You've earned yourself a bit of physical exercise."

Any thoughts of pressing the issue disappeared with those words.


	24. Part IV, Chapter 4

Calm… he was calm, and relaxed. The world was quiet. The only beings in the universe were him and Obi Wan.

Anakin did his best to remain calm, but the poking sensations he felt in his mind made him jump, and anticipation made it harder to get calm in the first place.

He thought of what Obi Wan told him- to let go of the surrounding world, and the angst filled feelings he felt. He tried to let go, to fall into a deeper layer of meditation.

Feeling the prodding sensations in his mind again, he tried to reach for the source. Obi Wan was glad, Anakin could feel that. The warm feeling that was his master reached out for him, and Anakin reached back. The gap between them was closing, like a hand reaching out for the lifeline thrust out at them in the midst of a storm. All he saw now was an invisible hand reaching for him, and he'd almost grasped it when…

"Obi Wan, Trel will not calm!" Nuuna exclaimed, carrying a screaming, uncooperative infant in her arms.

Obi Wan sighed and took Trel in his arms. The child's screams dulled instantly when he was passed into Obi Wan's arms. The Jedi Knight hummed the infant to sleep, but Anakin's disappointment did not go unnoticed.

* * *

The Jedi had been on Xiluke a total of eight days. Pila had left for her trial on the third day and was expected to return at any moment.

"Anakin, you seem tired, did you sleep well?" Obi Wan asked at dinner.

"Yeah, I'm just worn out from playing with Soral all day" Anakin intoned, staring blankly at the Truja sprouts that remained on his plate. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

There were several variations of "Good night, Anakin" as he left.

Despite his weariness, the padawan could not rest. He didn't dare tell Obi Wan he was having a hard time sleeping because of nightmares. In fact, he'd only just gotten over the nightmares of his mother that had plagued him his first four months at the Jedi Temple.

These dreams were different, mere flashes of pictures and disorienting noises, difficult to focus on and impossible to keep straight. He'd heard failing engines, seen ships, glimpses of beings who may have been Jedi, and a strange round field.

Obi Wan was heading out to meet with King Rueyen, this time with Anakin at his side, when the two were nearly run over by several Xilukans in a hurry.

"Where are you going?" Obi Wan inquired in the native tongue to anybody who would listen.

"Young Pila never came back from her Right of Passage. King Rueyen is gathering a search party to look for her."

Obi Wan's brows raised as he turned to the elderly Xilukan who had answered. "Where is the search party gathering?"

"In the King's courtroom."

* * *

Anakin nearly fell asleep on the plush red velvet couch. It was one of the few luxury items in the palace. Much like the Jedi, Xilukans favored simplicity. But finally, after what seemed like ages, Obi Wan came out. He motioned Anakin to follow him.

"So, what'd he say?" Anakin asked.

"We've been charged with searching for Pila. If we can find her ourselves, without the help of the search party, we'll have earned the King's respect and trust. We'd be allowed to leave with Trel and Soral." Obi Wan explained.

Sensing a bit of worry in his padawan, the knight added. "The odds are in our favor, since Jedi training allows me to stretch out with the Force and see beyond the trees," Obi Wan told him. "Though I will still need you to be attentive to what you do see."

Anakin nodded, adding a "Yes, master"

They'd been searching for the better part of the morning, getting deeper and deeper into the forest. Anakin strained to find even the slightest hint of Pila, a scrap of clothing, a small line of smoke from a put out fire, a set animal trap, anything. Obi Wan kept his sight at his usual standards, stretching out further with every mile they got deeper into the forest.

The older Jedi made it a point to mentally seek out the dens of the wild forest animals, both to avoid crossing paths with them and to be sure that the girl, or her body, was not among them.

"Master" came an exclamation from his padawan, "Pila's hover scooter, it crashed into a tree"

Obi Wan sensed where his young apprentice pointed and searched from there. Sure enough, there it was. He'd been so preoccupied with searching for life forms that he'd forgotten about the nonliving.

"Good job, Anakin," he said, feeling Anakin perk up. "I didn't even sense it; I was too focused on the living things"

Anakin grinned, feeling immensely proud for his good work, confidence lifting with the praise.

Obi Wan stretched out into the Force, feeling a faint presence not too far away.

"Pila's just beyond the peak; she must have fallen," he informed his padawan.

"Let's get going then" Anakin exclaimed, a new wave of excitement rushing to him. He had found Pila. He was going to rescue her, to be the hero he promised mom he would become. Everyone would be so impressed, Obi Wan especially.

They took off in a quicker pace, cutting through the branches and brushes. Obi Wan reached out further, knowing there was rough terrain ahead.

That's not right—something in his mind went off. At the base of the incline lay a clearing, bound in the Unifying Force, not the Living Force, like the rest of the forest around them. This clearing wasn't natural; it was perfectly elliptical, surrounded by pillars.

They'd come to the peak, and Anakin was already making his way down.

"Padawan, stop," Obi Wan called out. "I can sense a team of Xilukans nearby. I will call them to us before we proceed."

"But Master, I thought we weren't allowed to get the search party's help. And... I can see her- she's _hurt_!" Anakin cried, breaking into a jog down the sharp incline.

"Anakin, wait!" the Jedi commanded, an uneasy feeling overtaking him- a warning in the Force that he could not ignore.

"I'll be careful, Master," Anakin shouted back, slowing down marginally but still moving forward. His master must not want him to get hurt like Pila. Obi Wan needn't worry; he knew what he was doing.

"Padawan, I mean it," Obi Wan shouted harshly, "Stop right now! Do you hear me?"

But he was so close. He'd help his master earn the King's respect. He'd save Pila. Why wouldn't Obi Wan want him to help? It didn't make sense. Soon, he was too far down to understand some of what Obi Wan said. The words jumbled and slurred together with the echo the barren clearing created.

The rough terrain had stopped, the rocks were small and few, and the grass crawled up the rising terrain. It was twenty more meters until the ground leveled out. He took the risk and ran down the hill. His feet leapt quicker than he'd planned, but he paid no head to the warning they gave to slow down. He came to Pila, and checked to see if she was okay.

Obi Wan had long ago signaled in the Force for the other team to join them. They arrived in time to catch sight of Anakin climbing down the rocky terrain. As one they gasped, frozen in surprise. But when the boy actually ran onto the grass, they recovered from their shock. Shouting in Xilukan, the males climbed down at quicker speeds than Anakin's, anger and fear swelling from them all.

Obi Wan almost followed them when one of the females halted him, clicking her tongue in worry as she gripped his sleeve.

"What's wrong?" he asked in Xilukan. "What's going on?"

"Your padawan has stepped on sacred ground. It is for sacrificial offerings. Only Xilukan men may step onto the ground." She explained fearfully. "For a woman or an outsider, to walk on holy ground is to die"

Obi Wan couldn't help but stare at the woman with sightless eyes, belatedly realizing he was staring at her mouth as though unable to believe what had been spoken. Her words cut into him, leaving him bleeding as he realized what this meant for Anakin.


	25. Part IV, Chapter 5

Anakin stood there in confusion as Xilukans shouted; the men were angry. He soon noticed that there were only men racing toward himself and the unconscious Pila. A cluster of women waited at the peak of the hill, his master standing among them.

Whatever they were yelling about had to wait. Pila's safety came first. After coming to the conclusion that she was relatively okay, Anakin tried to lift the Xilukan girl up. Abruptly, they pulled her from his arms, still shouting at him.

Anakin recognized two of the men as the village guards. He and Obi Wan would pass them every day on their way out to train. Before he knew it, the guards had forcefully hooked a collar around his neck and binders around his wrists.

Suddenly, Anakin felt tired, weak, and disoriented. He was cold, freezing even, noting it might have actually been ten, twenty degrees colder than he'd thought. The boy had read about Force inhibiting collars at the Jedi Temple, but this was his first encounter with such things. Now he knew the loss of the Force, understood how it was the warm blanket that surrounded him, how it filled one's most basic needs without realization.

They led him away, and he looked up the rocky cliff to where Obi-Wan stood. It was strange to see fear on the Jedi's face.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood before the king, there to negotiate Anakin's release. _"He can't be sentenced to death for a religious infraction. It's against Galactic Law. When the Senate hears of this…"_

"_The law of the gods has greater authority than the law of the Senate, Obi Wan of the Kenobi,"_ King Rueyen contested firmly. _"I will not be shaken by their threats."_

Obi Wan struggled to reach the planet's leader with his words. This would have been much easier if his command of the Xilukan language were better. He used it so infrequently, and in a situation where the right words could mean the difference between life and death, he felt woefully inadequate.

His focus flickered to where Anakin stood with two Xilukan guards roughly grasping a shoulder to keep him in place before the king. It chilled him to not feel his apprentice's abundant energy. The force inhibiting collar they'd secured on Anakin made his presence almost impossible to sense, as if the boy were a mere wraith. Anakin seemed cold, tired, disoriented, as if he wasn't quite registering what was happening. Even through the weakened force around the boy, Obi-Wan could sense that all.

The conversation was going nowhere; their gods prevented them from releasing Anakin—or Pila for that matter, as she too had broken one of tradition's highest laws. Obi Wan tried to deter him, using Anakin's Jedi status as leverage. The Jedi and the Xilukan had made a pact of honor years ago, and the Obi Wan hoped that would be enough to prevent Anakin's execution.

"_The boy is not a Jedi indeed. You said yourself he is just a learner." _The king sighed, a light rustling sound indicating that he'd run a hand through his hair. "_Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be. The boy will remain here for sentencing. You, on the other hand… Since you found Pila, I will honor my promise and allow you to leave with the two younglings."_

"_But…"_

"_We are finished here, Obi Wan of the Kenobi."_

The knight understood the dismissal for what it was, but stubbornly walked over to Anakin, grasping his shoulders gently. "_I will not leave him."_

"_The gods have granted you two Xilukan children, in place of one apprentice. That will have to be enough."_

Obi Wan felt another guard grasp his arm, meaning to lead him away. Unwilling to be separated, his own grip on Anakin's shoulders tightened, knowing what he had to do. Loudly Obi Wan declared:

"_He is my Nij-dhar-ana, my son-in-spirit._"

The room filled with gasps.

Obi Wan could sense their increased agitation. One of the king's councilors made an uneasy sound in his throat. The Jedi could hear them conferring with one another in whispers as the spectators began to talk amongst themselves.

"Master, what's happening?" Anakin murmured dazedly, unable to understand what was being said. On their way to the palace, Obi Wan had tried to explain that he had somehow broken a serious law by walking on that clearing. It baffled the young boy that they would want to _kill_ him over it.

"I'm raising the stakes, my padawan. Claiming you as my _Nij-dhar-ana_ invokes a spirit pact between us. By their law, our fates are intertwined- what they do to you, they must do to me." Obi Wan smiled reassuringly at the boy. "They won't be willing to execute _both_ of us - they still have to answer to the Jedi Council and the Senate for their actions. Perhaps we can get out of this relatively unscathed."

It worried him that Anakin did not respond. Obi-Wan was about to speak to him again, when the king's voice cut through the din and buzz of the chattering people.

"_Very well, son of Kenobi,_" The king answered finally, a bit of lament in his tone. He spoke to the guards and soon Obi-Wan was under arrest with Anakin. The binders and force inhibiting collar were applied and his force-sight flickered away. He was truly blind.

Obi Wan fought down the slither of panic that threatened him as he could no longer sense anything or anyone around him, alone in his darkness. The king's voice rang out and he lifted his face in the direction of that sound.

Anakin observed as his master and the king debated again. Finally, at long last, they seemed to come to an understanding.

The knight turned to his apprentice. "It looks like we will be all right, my padawan. As atonement for our misdeed, we need only offer a burnt sacrifice to gods on the next feast day."

Disoriented as he was, Anakin felt somewhat relieved. "Oh, that's good. What are we supposed to sacrifice?"

Obi Wan shrugged lightly. He turned back to ask the king. Upon receiving the answer, the Jedi's face drained of color.

"What is it master? What do we have to sacrifice?" Anakin pressed.

Obi Wan swallowed thickly before replying. "Ourselves."

* * *

They were being led down a series of stairways and corridors to their holding cells. The guard's hands were icy and rough, his breath reeked like that of a dead animal's, and his voice was gravely, seeming to grunt more than speak. Obi-Wan found it difficult to keep up with the pace, tripping every now and again on unseen obstructions. The guard became agitated, taking a primitive blaster to Obi-Wan's back.

"_Stop making this difficult,_" he jabbed the blaster into his back as a warning.

It was then that the fog of disorientation cleared in Anakin's thoughts. The pure worry and fear for his close companion drove away the haze, giving him new focus.

He glared at the guard through the dim light, anger coursing through him and bringing with it sharpness of mind. In retrospect, he was rather glad Obi-Wan couldn't use the force. He would have certainly felt the anger, which would have led to a long lecture.

"Don't treat him like that! Can't you…" he was cut off by Obi-Wan's slightly off-center –though still pointed all the same—look, telling him to keep quiet.

Anakin fell silent and resolved instead to warn Obi-Wan when a new obstacle fell into their path. If there was uneven ground he'd scrape his feet dramatically, knowing Obi-Wan would pick up on the sudden change in sound, and when they approached steps of any kind, he went first. Obi-Wan was soon very thankful for Anakin's hidden signals, proud of his padawan's resourcefulness.

The metal door of the jail cell slammed shut and Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, half worried, half thankful he wasn't alone.

"What next?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan couldn't deny the worried tone in Anakin's voice; for that matter, he couldn't deny his own worry. His first mission as a master had gotten completely out of hand. Here he was, imprisoned on a remote planet, sightless, completely disconnected from the Force, and responsible for the safety of a barely trained boy. Not to mention they both were slated to be burnt alive as sacrifices.

_Well, this is going great_, he thought with intense sarcasm.

The Knight tried, and failed, to connect with the Light Side, to draw strength from its reserves. The utter disconnection was unnerving. _Fear is the path to the Dark Side_, Obi Wan reminded himself. Fear would not help him out of this situation.

_Oh well, my own strength will just have to do_, he mused.

"Anakin, how big do you think this cell is?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Eight by eight, ten by ten tops," came the soft reply.

Obi-Wan reached cautiously for the walls, laying his palms flat against the cold surface. Slowly, he crossed from one side of the cell to the next, making a careful note of the number of steps. Again, he reached for the adjacent wall and counted his steps. He felt the texture of the floor and the wall—all stone—and meticulously ran his hands along the metal doors. There wasn't even a small opening with bars, all door.

Comforted that he at least had a sense of his surroundings, Obi-Wan sighed and sank to his knees, not in despair, but in meditation of possible escape plans.


	26. Part IV, Chapter 6

Between Kioshie and I- work, school, extreme busyness, and laptop issues have delayed the uploading of this chapter. Please pardon the delay…and the brevity of this chapter, as this was simply a natural place to stop. We appreciate all your patience and support!

~Why'

* * *

There is a void between the realm of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. A lonely place, veiled in darkness and surrounded by the sound of others, it made one feel isolated and disoriented. Obi-Wan felt something akin to this void. Drowning in a sea in a darkness so thick he couldn't sense, even for the life of him, the aura of his own hand inches from his face. He traced over his palm with his fingertips, as though assuring himself that it was still there.

Cut off from the Force, meditating became exorbitantly difficult. He handled it well enough at first, but as time slipped by…hours or days, he could no longer tell… Obi Wan felt himself begin to dabble in self-pity. This hopelessness grew with the knowledge that it wasn't just he who sat in impending danger. It was his job to protect the boy beside him- to train him, to teach him, to make him a Jedi, as he had promised his master. Instead, death hung in the near distance, a scene so ethereal he had to marvel that he was capable of failing them all- his master, the council, his apprentice- so utterly.

The door creaked and slid open, soft footsteps and quiet breathing were all that was heard as a being entered the cell. The portal shut again with a harsh clang, leaving them alone with the breathing apparition. Obi Wan could smell the lingering residue of medicinal herbs and ointments on their new cellmate and wondered who it could be.

His padawan quickly resolved the question. "Pila, are you alright?" Anakin's voice rang out. A scuffle on the stone floor told him the boy was scrambling toward their new guest.

"Yes, as well as I can be," she replied quietly. Her breath hitched in hesitation before continuing, "Thank you for coming after me; I'm sorry you'll end up dying because of it." The voice was sullen and downcast; Obi Wan could read the heaviness of resignation in it.

"It's okay, we're going to figure a way out of here," Anakin confidently assured her.

Despite Qui Gon's death, many of the boy's idealized notions of the Jedi persisted. Namely, that they were indefatigable and incapable of being captured indefinitely. It was a confidence Obi Wan knew he did not deserve, yet he did not want to disappoint the boy.

He had never allowed his blindness to be an excuse before, the Jedi Knight reminded himself. And if that blindness happened to be more absolute now than he was used to, well, then he'd have to try harder to compensate for it.

"What do you mean!" Pila exclaimed to Anakin in great alarm, "You can't leave. That would be going against the laws of the gods!"

"We can't let them kill us. We didn't do anything wrong!" replied Anakin, clearly also shocked.

"We both trespassed on sacred ground," the young teen countered.

"You _fell_ down there and knocked yourself unconscious," Anakin snapped. "It was an accident! And we were only trying to rescue you."

"It doesn't matter. We did not belong there. Only the Xilukan men can-"

"How can you just let them _kill_ you for something like that? Doesn't your life matter?" Anakin interrupted, beginning to get angry.

Obi-Wan very nearly cut in to chide his padawan. As a Jedi, it was not his place to pass judgment on other planets' cultural systems, and certainly not in so abrasive a manner. On the other hand, Anakin was demonstrating the Jedi qualities of compassion, respect for life, and reasoning. Even if the manner in which it was delivered needed to be adjusted, he felt it best not to stop him just yet. He was curious to see how this would progress.

Pila stared at Anakin, unable to respond right away. "You and I were raised by different codes," she said at last, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She pulled away from Anakin and seated herself in the corner, drawing her knees against her chest and resting her chin.

She noticed Obi-Wan had been oddly silent this whole time, not seeming to pay attention to the conversation at all. Anakin, however, restlessly paced the middle of the small cell, the movement helping him think better and work out was he was trying to articulate.

"Yes, we were raised by different codes," He responded finally. "In the place where I grew up, life was something that could be bought and sold anywhere. Living beings were abused and mistreated; nobody cared if a person was found dead so long as he left no blood that had to be cleaned up." He stopped in front of Pila, kneeling down to look her in the eye. "I don't believe what they believe. To me, life is sacred and valuable. _That_ is why I think your life is worth saving"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but beam at his padawan's words, impressed by the boy's genuine warmth of heart. The boy may be a Jedi yet.

"We're going to escape from here. We're going to find a way," Anakin declared assertively. "And when we do, you're going to come with us."

Pila looked up at the Padwan with tear rimmed eyes. Slowly, she nodded.


End file.
